I Don't Believe This
by Siriusgirl1
Summary: As far as anyone could remember, Minerva McGonagall had always been stern. But it was all an act to mask her disappointment. Was it really possible for one of her brightest students, despite popular belief, to turn to the Dark side? To betray her trust?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**

Yet another Harry Potter related fanfic. I think, however, that this will a multi-chaptered fanfic, with excerpts - or fillers - from various years – while Harry's at Hogwarts, of course – and will feature mainly around the characters of the a few Hogwarts Professors, a handful of former – and current – students.

The idea for _this_ particular piece came from the last chapter of _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_, when Harry received the letter from Sirius, and sees the extra slip of parchment in the envelope; the extra slip of parchment that reads;

'_I, Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather, hereby give him permission to visit Hogsmeade at weekends'_ and when Harry goes;

'_That'll be good enough for Dumbledore!_'

**Disclaimer: **I wish everything to do with Harry Potter belonged to me……but alas, reality always kicks in when I start to dream, rather rudely showing me that no, I do _not_ own a single thing relating to JK Rowling's wonderful universe. Oh well.

* * *

**Of Harry Potter, Hogsmeade permission slips and Minerva McGonagall's curiosity:**

"I see that Potter is now being allowed to go to Hogsmeade during the weekends…" commented dark haired Professor McGonagall, once she had settled down and accepted the cup of tea from her colleague.

Dumbledore nodded.

"Oh, yes," he said, cheerfully. "And it's a good thing too. No young Hogwarts student should find themselves in a position where they are not allowed to visit Hogsmeade…" The Headmaster shuddered. "That is simply unheard of."

McGonagall sipped her tea slowly.

"Am I to understand that his uncle _finally_ signed the permission slip?" she questioned, a dark look crossing her face as she thought of her student's Muggle relatives.

"Oh dear, no, I doubt if the man would ever sign anything that would do some good to our dear Harry," said Dumbledore, shaking his head sadly.

McGonagall found that she had to agree with the Headmaster on that. She _still_ did not understand why he had chosen to leave the boy with his Muggle relatives. For, surely, _any_ Wizarding family would love him and raise him in the manner a young child _should_ be raised in?

_But I digress_, she thought, shaking her head slightly to clear it.

"Then…" she paused, frowning. "_You_ gave Potter special permission…" Dumbledore smiled at the younger witch – one of his former students, in fact.

"Yes, I _did_ give him permission."

"I understand your reasons for it, Albus, but really, I thought we were meant to set an example to our fellow colleagues?" McGonagall frowned. "Yes, I understand that had _you_ not given the boy permission, he probably would never have been allowed to visit Hogsmeade during his entire stay at Hogwarts, but still-"

"-My dear Minerva, I said I gave him _permission_, not _special permission_," cut in the blue eyed, elderly wizard, his eyes twinkling as he observed her over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "I merely approved of the permission slip he gave me on his first day back."

He nodded to himself. "And it's a good thing that he did that too, for I would have been rather busy with the preparations for this Tri-Wizard Tournament, and he might not have had the chance to catch me in my office…"

"If…but…" McGonagall stopped, staring curiously at Dumbledore. "He gave you a signed permission slip…?"

"Yes, did I forget to mention that?"

"If his uncle did not sign it…"

"No, Mr. Dursley definitely did _not_ sign it."

"Then who-?"

She received a rather enigmatic smile in answer to her question. "Oh. Was it the aunt? Lily's sister?"

"Heavens, no," said Dumbledore. "I don't think Harry even _showed_ her the permission slip." He shook his head. "In any case, it wasn't exactly a _permission slip_ that Harry gave me; it was more of a note, stating that its writer gave him permission to visit Hogsmeade."

He smiled. "_Do_ drink the tea, Minerva, for I fear it gets quite cold when left for too long. Hmm…it must be something to do with this office, I fear…" He sighed, before he brightened almost at once. "Ah, that reminds me, I was able to visit my favorite confectionary shop in Muggle London, and managed to procure quite a collection of lemon drops…would you like to have one…?"

McGonagall, it turned out, could not care less about the Headmaster's precious lemon drops, but she did continue to sip her tea, muttering a warming spell when she realized that it had indeed gotten rather cold.

"If the Dursleys didn't sign – didn't give Potter permission, then who did?" she questioned.

"That is the question, isn't it, Minerva?" asked Dumbledore, pleasantly. "Who indeed…?"

"_Albus_," said McGonagall, a warning note in her voice. "_Do not_ play around with me; who gave him permission?"

"Someone who most certainly has Harry's best interests at heart, so there is no need to fear, my dear Minerva, for no harm will come to Gryffindor's seeker-"

"-I do not _care_ – well…er, I mean, of course I am concerned as to whether he will encounter any danger…but that is not…what I want to know right now," said McGonagall, somewhat flustered. "As far as I know, Potter has no other family, or guardian, who _could_ give him permission…"

"Is it really all that important, Minerva? To find out who it was?" Even though his eyes still twinkled, there was a slightly more serious undertone to Dumbledore's voice.

McGonagall was silent for a moment.

"Well…" she paused. "Well, I suppose it's not…but…" she glanced directly at her superior. "As his Head of House, I feel that I have the right to know what is going on, concerning my students and---" She stopped with a sigh, "Oh alright, I'll admit it; I am simply curious."

Dumbledore chuckled.

"I know you are, Minerva," he said, jovially. "Some things certainly never change, do they?"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" questioned the younger witch, as her dark eyes narrowed. Dumbledore waved a hand casually.

"Oh, nothing, nothing," he said hurriedly. "I meant nothing by it."

"So…who was it?"

"Would you like some more tea?"

"I – no, thank you."

"Some biscuits, perhaps?"

"Albus – no, but thank you for the offer."

"Some lollies?"

"_Some_ --- I am afraid that I do not like any of that…sweet stuff…"

"Oh. Hmm…how about some-"

"-_No, _Albus, I would _not_ like anything else with my tea. I am perfectly happy with what I have had, thank you very much, although it was very…nice of you offer," cut in McGonagall, hating the amused smile that was on the Headmaster's lips. She really hated the fact that he could make her feel like a fifteen year old school girl all over again.

"Of course, of course…" said Dumbledore, pleasantly, as he leaned back in his chair. McGonagall stared at him expectantly, as he opened his mouth. "Dear me, would you _look_ at the time? I had not realized it was this late, did you?"

McGonagall blinked.

"…Er, no?"

Dumbledore stood up.

"I am afraid that I must end this lovely tea party, Minerva, for I have some things to do. As the Muggles say, I have _places to be and people to see_." With a wave of his wand, the empty tea cups and the still half-full teapot were vanished. "And I really _must_ speak to Hagrid about preparations for the steeds of Madame Maxime's…no doubt he'll know what to do with them…"

Gallantly tipping his hat at her, he headed towards the door.

"You still haven't told me," said McGonagall, causing him to pause.

"Told you what, my dear?"

McGonagall fought against the urge to growl in frustration.

"His name…or _her_ name, whichever one it is." Dumbledore tilted his head to a side, sending her a quizzical look.

"I do not know what you are talking about, Minerva; perhaps you could enlighten me…?"

"The person who gave Potter permission to visit Hogsmeade," said McGonagall, through gritted teeth. She _honestly_ didn't know how she put up with her superior!

"Ah," said Dumbledore, sagely. "That."

"Yes, _that_."

There was a moment's pause, in which the Headmaster looked thoughtful.

"Sirius Black." Observant blue eyes watched as the Transfiguration Professor unconsciously clenched her jaw shut. Upon closer inspection, he could see her jaw muscle ticking.

"If you are trying to be funny, Albus," she said, in a voice that was low and...chillingly devoid of any emotion, "let me tell you that it is nowhere near what you were aiming for."

Her eyes narrowed. _Never mention that name in my presence again_, she pleaded, mentally, _it has caused me enough of grief. To think, to think...that after _everything_, I was wrong to have placed my trust in that bright student of mine. To think that he caused...that he caused -_

"Forgive me, Minerva," said Dumbledore, a sad smile forming on his lips as his Deputy stared at the floor with dazed eyes. _If only you knew...maybe someday I will be able to tell you, but not now. Not when hatred has rooted out the unwavering trust you once had for _all_ your students. One day you will learn that your trust was not misplaced._

McGonagall pulled herself together after a good mental telling-off for bringing up memories of the past that were known to cause her grief.

"Well?" she asked.

"Well?"

"Who gave Potter permission to visit Hogsmeade?"

"Oh." There was a pause."Would you believe it, I think I have forgotten." Dumbledore shook his head, looking amazed. "It _must_ be my old age…the mind does not work as well as it usually does as the years go by, you know…" His blue eyes twinkled. "Ah well, it's just as well, I suppose, although I hope I do not forget any other vitally important bits of information……"

He nodded cheerily at the stunned dark haired witch. "I will see you later, Minerva. Good day." With an equally cheerily wave, Hogwarts' Headmaster all but _skipped_ out of the door and down the stairs that led out of his office.

McGonagall allowed herself to release the frustrated growl that was threatening to escape her pursed lips. That man would _certainly_ be the death of her.

* * *

**A/N**

I was wondering if none of the staff, particularly McGonagall, who the students had to hand in their Hogsmeade permission slips to, had been curious about Harry suddenly being allowed to visit Hogsmeade. (Of course, they wouldn't have known of the map and how he had used it to go into Hogsmeade the previous year…)

Oh, and this takes place in Harry's fourth year, before the students of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons arrive at Hogwarts for the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Hope you enjoyed that!

Till next time,

Siriusgirl1


	2. Another Dead Student, and a Nice Dog

**A/N**

This little piece takes place, once again, during Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts, although this is at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

And this was brought on when the Mad-Eye impostor was discovered. Dumbledore sends Snape to get some of his brewed _Veritaserum_ and Dumbledore tells McGonagall to go to Hagrid's hut, where she would find a big black dog in the pumpkin patch, and to lead the dog to his office.

* * *

**Another Dead Student and a Nice Dog:**

"Professor McGonagall – what's going on-? We heard – Diggory…and Potter –"

"My dear lady, could you perhaps let us in on what happened? They're saying that someone _died_-"

"Where's Dumbledore? Is it true that –"

"Who won the Tournament? Diggory or Potter? I know that this isn't the-"

"My son! Vher is my _son_? Vher is my Viktor? If there is-"

"You are a…_Professeur_ here? Zere are many problems 'ere, I can tell. Nothin' like Beauxbatons and-"

"Professor! _Professor McGonagall_! Harry – where's Harry-"

"Is Cedric alright, Professor? We've been hearing-"

"Iz 'zis ze way zey look after zere young ones, here? I-"

The grim faced, dark-haired Professor was at the end of her wits as she strolled past the many parents and students who had wormed their way into the castle once it was clear that the Tournament was over; with tragic consequences.

To say that she was relieved when she reached the doors that led outside was an understatement, for she was _sure_ that, had the questioning continued – from both parent and student alike – she _would have_ hexed someone.

Slamming the doors shut behind her, she gulped as she saw the remnants of the thick maze that covered the Quidditch pitch. Many of the officials were now slowly taking the thing down...and she could not help but wonder if they _knew_.

If they knew what happened to one of the Hogwarts' Champions.

A lump formed in the Professor's throat as she recalled the sight of that prone, battered – from the maze – body that Harry Potter had held onto, as though it was a matter of life or death.

_How_, she wondered, _how could such a thing have _happened?_ And then Alastor Moody..._she shuddered, _an impostor...this is serious business, very serious business inde-_

"Minerva, oh thank goodness!" Turning sharply, McGonagall winced as she caught sight of the plump red-haired woman who was hurrying towards her, her sons in tow.

"Not now, Molly," she said, tersely, "not now. I have something to attend to and-"

"-What in the name of _Merlin_ is going on?! They're saying that that boy, dear Cedric Diggory, is..._dead_," said Molly, her face pale, "and...oh, where's _Harry_?"

McGonagall sighed.

"Diggory _is_...dead, Molly," she said, and the woman's face turned white. "Harry's alright, but...but I think the Headmaster would like to speak to him for a while and...and try and grasp what happened." She nodded at them all, gathering up strength she didn't even _know_ she had. "Now, if you'll excuse me..."

And with that, she hurried towards the gamekeeper's hut as fast as she could, not bothering to pause or turn around whenever she heard her name being called out. She tried to push aside the thought that she would have to come _back_ this way, with the...

Dog.

As she saw Hagrid's hut before her, she allowed herself to slow down somewhat. A dog. Why in the name of all things magical had Albus asked her to fetch a..._dog_? What good could a big black _dog_ possibly do in their current situation?

_Albus has his reasons_, she said to herself, as she made her way to the pumpkin patch, _he may be 'forgetful',_ she snorted at that, _but he would certainly not suggest this for no reason._

She stopped short when she saw the dog, lying down on the ground with its tongue lolling out of its mouth. It _was_ quite a big dog...somewhat like...the Grim.

_Honestly, McGonagall,_ she reprimanded herself, _this is just a...surprisingly inactive dog, not the _Grim.

"Er...you there..." She stopped. How was one supposed to address a dog? Had Albus given her a name...? No, she didn't think he did. "You, dog!" The big creature's ears lifted and, a moment later, it raised its head ever so slightly to look at her.

She could have _sworn_ that the dog's eyes widened. "Ahem, yes, well..." her voice trailed off. She may not _know_ the dog, but it certainly felt...strange, calling it 'dog'. "Albus – Dumbledore – sent me. He is...busy at this very moment, but...he would like it if I escorted you to his office and if you...stayed there until he decides to join you---"

The dog was on its feet in an instant, tail wagging. It bounded towards her and she found herself stepping to the side – unconsciously of course – to avoid the big mass of...dog. In return, it turned around and gave her a look that she could have sworn was a pout.

_Oh, that's just wonderful, Minerva,_ she said to herself, _you're seeing things now. Brilliant. Just what we need added on to the _current_ hectic situation._

Shaking her head and straightening, she nodded briskly at the dog, who was staring somewhat unnervingly at her.

"Right," she said, tersely. "Right. We should...get going now." She took a few steps forward when she felt the wagging of a tail against her leg. "Perhaps you could stop...hitting me with your tail...?" she suggested, dryly, when she stopped, causing the dog to send her a curious look.

Again, she could have _sworn_ that the dog smiled.

_Insanity, Minerva...I hear that it does tend to occur in the minds of several witches and wizards as they go along with the ageing process..._

She continued walking, her pace quite brisk – but not as fast as it had been when she had been making her way to the hut.

She groaned when she saw the crowd still gathered in the area between her and the castle. The dog gave her an inquiring bark, causing her to shake her head.

"I was _hoping_ they would have gone by now..." she murmured to it. "Oh well. Keep up with me boy – you _are_ a male...?" The dog wagged its tale again. "...Right, well, keep up with me for we will be all but running back inside."

And just like when she had been leaving the grounds a few minutes ago, the murmurs and the questioning started once more.

"Professor! There you are! Where _is_ everyone? I wanted to speak to-"

"The rumours are correct, aren't they? Oh dear, oh _dear_, they-"

"They're saying that Harry Potter-"

"Is there something you want to tell us, Minerva McGonagall?" asked one fair-haired male as he stepped forward with a rather ugly, determined expression on his face. "We'd all like to know what it is that has got everyone so hot and bothered. Dumbledore's nowhere in sight, but perhaps _you_ could enlighten us as to what happened?"

McGonagall stared evenly at the man.

"It is not my place to say anything now, Sir," she said, politely. "Rest assured that everyone will be informed of the situation once we ascertain what it is all about. Until then, however, I ask that everyone remain calm and-"

"-Remain _calm_? They're saying that someone _died_, woman! How the bloody hell can you expect us to _remain calm_?!"

The dog took a step forward, a threatening growl erupting from deep within its throat as the man clenched his fists and glared at the Professor.

Unconsciously reaching out, McGonagall scratched the dog's head.

"I _am_ sorry," she said, firmly, "but I cannot tell you anything when we are not certain as to what actually happened."

"Dammit, woman! Our children _attend this school_!" exclaimed the man, taking another step towards the dark-haired Professor. "We _have a right_ to know-" The fair haired man screamed when the dog lunged at him, biting down on his leg. "What the – call it _off_! Call your vicious beast _off_!"

McGonagall fought to keep the grim smile from her face.

"Stop that," she said, addressing the dog. "I am certain that he doesn't taste good. In any case, we should be on our way..." The dog released the man's leg, spitting out the bits of trouser that had gotten caught in his mouth.

With a curt nod at the grimacing man, McGonagall and the dog continued on their way to the castle. Or rather, McGonagall followed the path that the dog more or less cleared for her.

Once they were clear of the people, the dog slowed down and returned to her side. She petted its head, a small smile on her face.

"Technically," she said, "I shouldn't like dogs. Merlin only knows the amount of times your kind has tried to have me for a meal while in my Animagus form..." She shook her head. "But, I suppose you're alright...although why Albus wanted me to-" She sighed as they continued.

"I can understand that man's feelings, though. I can only guess the extent to which people are going to, to create all of these...rumours." Another sigh escaped her lips. "Just wait until they find that...that Diggory...that Potter..." her voice broke off.

If she had been looking at the dog, she would have seen the way its ears perked up at the mention of the name 'Potter' before its tail lowered when she stopped talking abruptly.

It pawed urgently at her, ears drooping. "I am sorry, but I don't know what it is that you want," said McGonagall, glancing down at it and wondering if that was a _troubled _expression that she saw on its...er, face. "Maybe you'd like some food to be brought up to Albus' office...? Yes, I think that can be arranged. I'm sure that Potter would need something to eat too...although I do not think he will be _able_ to hold his food, what with Diggory...being dead and..."

She pushed open the doors to the castle, gesturing for the dog to enter, before closing them behind her. Taking a different route, so as to avoid as many inquiring minds as she could, she led the dog to the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

A minute later, they were both inside and an uncomfortable silence fell on them.

"Well...I suppose you'll be wanting something to eat..." Brow furrowed in thought, she waved her wand and a plate of minced sausages appeared on the floor, along with a bowl of water. "You should wait here until Albus comes up..."

She let out a troubled sigh. "And I suppose I should go and see Albus now...and then-" her voice softened, "-I should find Pomona and speak to Mr and Mrs Diggory. Sweet Merlin, how do you tell a parent that their only child is dead...?"

_How do you deal with the knowledge that _another_ one of your students is dead? By the hand of evil? How many _more_ of my bright students must I see fall, must I see die while I still live? At least Diggory was not _betrayed_...which is more than what I can say for James and Lily._

McGonagall glanced down in surprise, drawn away from her dark thoughts when she felt the dog push against her knee, rubbing its head against it – in what, she supposed, was meant to be a comforting gesture.

"You know," she said, as she stared down at the dog for a moment, "If I didn't know any better, I would say that there was more to you than meets the eye..." She sighed. "And I would say that I must be insane, to be talking to a dog..."

With a last look at the dog – who appeared to be _grinning_ this time - she turned on her heel and walked out of the office, making sure to close the door firmly behind her.

If she had gone back into the office at that moment, she would have been surprised to notice the absence of the big, apparently intelligent black dog.

And she would have been stunned into silence at the presence of the all too familiar black-haired man who had betrayed her trust.

* * *

**A/N**

Well, that's that! I couldn't do much, concerning the points of view of the other professors, but that was because I was focusing more on the 'dog' and Professor McGonagall.

Hope you enjoyed that!

See ya soon!

Siriusgirl1


	3. Stories, Tea and Pensieves

**A/N**

Here's another chapter! Once again, this is set during Harry's fourth year – it's still dealing with the day Harry 'returned' from that graveyard in Little Hangleton, with Cedric's body and the information of Voldemort's return.

**Who cares?:** Hehe, thanks for the review. Hope you find this chapter interesting too!

Oh, and I do have an announcement to make. I realized, when I was submitting this story, that it _might_ come across as being one with the ship of Sirius/McGonagall. I'd just like to say that this isn't a pairing at all; it's more like a student/teacher relationship (and not a romantic one at that). I had wanted to list this fic under the characters of McGonagall and Sirius, but I realized that it might give off the wrong impression. Sorry if I've disappointed anyone, but...well, McGonagall and Sirius...I mean, _really_...he was, what, 36? And she's, I dunno...in her 60s/70s? And let's not go into the thought of them having..._anything _going on when _he _was still _in school._ I just...do _not_ see that happening!

Thanks to **MoreThanACrush** for asking if I was going to make it a MM/SB pairing - which, by doing so, reminded me that I had forgotten to write that it _wasn't_ a pairing fic. So...thanks for that!

Anyway, on with the story!

Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

**Chapter Three:**** Stories, Tea and Pensieves**

The meeting with Madame Maxime had not been a very comfortable one, but it had been manageable. And if she was to be completely honest, Minerva McGonagall was quite glad that Durmstrang's principal, Igor Karkaroff, was nowhere to be seen.

She didn't think she would be able to handle his snide comments on the death of one of Hogwarts' students.

"Zis is terrible news," repeated Madame Maxime, as they both left her office. "Terrible news indeed. Who would want…who could _do_ such a thing to a _student_?"

"Just the one man we've all heard of," said McGonagall, through clenched teeth. She waved Madame Maxime off politely, and, for a moment, stood still where she was, pondering what she should do next.

_Ah, I__ believe Potter's still in the hospital wing._

Walking briskly, she headed towards the hospital wing, unconsciously wondering what sort of condition Potter would be in. It seemed…unfair that Fate had decided to throw so much on his young, unhappy shoulders.

She was deep in thought and almost at her destination, when she rounded the corner and collided rather solidly with another sturdy body.

Glasses askew, she glared ahead of her.

"Severus, what in the-" her reprimand died out in her throat as she saw the Potions' Professor's face. It was pale, all too pale and…_was that a trace of loathing and anger in his eyes?_

"Minerva," acknowledged Snape, tersely. "Forgive me. I must be on my way." A muscle ticked in his jaw as he nodded briefly at her before walking away, his dark robes billowing behind him.

_Well, _thought McGonagall, as she straightened her glasses, _that was…interesting. I wonder what's gotten into _him._ Hang on, did he just leave the hospital wing?_

Suddenly concerned – for who or what she couldn't really tell – she continued walking briskly forward, coming to a halt when she saw a dog bounding out of the hospital wing, its tail wagging. She recognized the dog as the one Dumbledore had asked her to fetch from Hagrid's hut.

"What in the _world_…?" she murmured, as the dog stopped and stared at her, ears perked up. She stared down at the dog, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I thought you were in Albus' office…" she reprimanded.

The dog wagged its tail. "Then what are you doing wandering around…oh dear, what were you doing in the hospital wing?" The stern expression found itself on her face again. "You, dog, I'm talking to you. What were you- ack!"

She couldn't step out of the way in time as the dog bounded towards her. Expecting the worst, she raised her hands to cast a spell, when the dog simply slowed down and – affectionately – rubbed its head against her knee, before giving her a shrill bark and dashing down the corridor.

_What-?_

"Where do you think you're going?" exclaimed McGonagall, as she turned to stare after its retreating figure. "I am not sure if you're allowed to run around the hallways and-" She stopped, sighing. He was already out of her sight.

_I'll have to have a word about the dog with Albus_, she thought, grimly, before heading once more to the hospital wing. She had barely managed to get through the door when she was met by the figure of Dumbledore.

"Ah, Minerva," he said, as pleasantly as he could, given the circumstances. "I was wondering where you were. How is Pomona?"

McGonagall flinched slightly as she thought of the Head of Hufflepuff.

"She is…with the rest of her House," she said, softly. "I don't think she will be leaving them for a while…"

"Yes," said Dumbledore, sadly, "the students _will_ need their Head of House. Especially to deal with the aftermath of this whole thing…"

"Albus, I bumped into Severus on the way here and he didn't seem-"

"-too pleased?" McGonagall nodded. "Ah, yes, I'm afraid that he _wasn't_ too pleased with what I asked him to do…but still…it has to be done. Especially now, since-"

The Transfiguration professor waited for him to continue, but he didn't. She shook her head; he'd tell her whenever he felt like it. There was no point for her to press him for information. Not on _this_ issue anyway.

"By the way, that dog you asked me to accompany to your office…" McGonagall frowned, "is currently roaming the corridors, unattended. Did you know of that?"

There was a strange sort of pause during which McGonagall found herself the recipient of a very intense, very _probing_ blue-eyed stare.

Dumbledore finally sighed, as though having sensed his Deputy's discomfort.

"Yes, I did know of it," he said, quietly. "In fact, it was I who asked him to leave; he has some tasks that need to be carried out…some important tasks…"

"Albus," said McGonagall, slowly, "what tasks can a _dog_ have to carry out?"

"You'd be surprised, my dear…"

"Try me," said McGonagall, unable to resist. Dumbledore shook his head.

"No…no, I think I will tell you when I have found-" He stopped suddenly, blue eyes glazed over as he stared at a spot over her head for a moment. "-On the contrary, given our current situation, perhaps it would be better…"

Again, even though she waited for him to continue, to elaborate on what he was saying, the elderly wizard just fell silent, causing her to sigh inwardly.

_Fine then, _she thought, _keep your secrets, Albus._

"How is Potter?" she questioned, remembering her reason for deciding to visit the hospital wing in the first place. "He has not been…hurt too much, has he? Physically, I mean?"

Dumbledore shook his head slowly.

"No, physically, all Harry needs is a couple of hours of some good, restful sleep," he said, his expression softening. "_Mentally_, however…"

"Well you can't very well blame him for that," said McGonagall, curtly. "He _saw_ Diggory…he saw him being killed…"

"Yes, he did," agreed Dumbledore. "Although I cannot help but wonder what _might have_ happened should Peter's aim have been…awry…"

Dark eyes narrowed at the Headmaster.

"Peter?" she echoed. "Peter who? Was he the one who…killed Diggory?" Dumbledore's blue eyes focused on her once more – and she absently noted that they weren't twinkling as they almost always did.

"Peter Pettigrew," he said, simply. "And yes, he did kill Cedric Diggory."

His Deputy stared at him out of her dark eyes, eyebrows raised.

"I beg your pardon?"

Dumbledore sighed.

"Peter Pettigrew, Minerva. Surely you remember him? He was one of your Gryffindors, I believe, and was also a…_good_ friend of three other, famous, Gryffindors-"

"-And he _died_ thirteen years ago," cut in McGonagall. _Along with thirteen other Muggles._

"Of course, Minerva, of course…that _is_ the general, widespread belief, is it not?" He was twiddling his thumbs as he, once more, stared at a spot over the top of her head. "In fact, I myself believed that the boy was dead – killed, in a most _brutal_ manner – but…alas, I was proven wrong last year." He shook his head. "To think, that all this time, he-"

"-Albus, _Albus_, I do not know _exactly_ what happened but…listen to me Albus, Pettigrew is _dead_. All that they found of him in that sewer was one if his fingers; he's _dead_."

"He is _thought_ to be dead, yes," agreed Dumbledore. McGonagall shook her head adamantly.

"No, Albus, he _is_ dead. We attended the funeral service held in his honor, did we not? We spoke to his mother, comforted his mother…you even made a speech on him, as his school Headmaster-"

Dumbledore, however, had stopped listening to her. Having lowered his gaze back to his Deputy's eyes, he could see the warring emotions in the depths of her eyes.

After speaking to Harry in his office, and then later giving Severus and Sirius their individual tasks, he had known that he would have to tell the Transfiguration professor the truth that he himself had been told just last year. It had not been a task that he had looked forward to, a few minutes ago, and it had resulted in him deciding to talk to her _later_; perhaps after a week or two had passed, when the Order members were all gathered.

But he now knew that he could not put it off.

"-Minerva," he said, cutting off whatever it was that she was saying. "We need to talk."

There was a slight pause.

"We _are_ talking now, Albus."

"Yes, but I need to speak to you about another matter, rather, a _few_ other matters…and I would much rather do it in private, where information will not fall on unwanted ears."

"I was going to see Potter-"

"-Harry is fine, but, of course, I understand your concern. You may see him after I speak to you." He gestured before him with a wide sweep of his arm. "After you, Minerva." With a barely audible sigh, McGonagall turned around and started walking, this time heading for the Headmaster's office.

This day was turning out to be…quite a strange and taxing one.

* * *

**A short while later:**

For the first time since the day her younger self had been told that the position of Hogwarts' Transfiguration Professor was free, and it would be a great honour to have her take it up, Minerva McGonagall fidgeted in her seat opposite the Headmaster.

As always, Albus had conjured up some tea and a number of biscuits…but Minerva only played with the white and blue tea cup in her hands, allowing its warmth to seep into her fingers.

She looked up at her colleague, her friend, as he cleared his throat.

"Minerva…I am afraid that you will not like what it is that I am to speak to you about. There is nothing that I can do about that, except to just ask you to hear the _whole_ story before walking out of my office in a huff. Can you do that?"

"Yes," said McGonagall. "I _will_."

"Good." There was a slight pause. "Tell me, Minerva, what do you know of the events of that fateful Halloween night of 1981?"

McGonagall gaped at the elderly wizard, wondering, for a moment, if she had misheard him. When he looked expectantly at her, however, she knew that she had not.

"The Potters were killed, and You-Know-Who disappeared, having been seemingly _'killed'_ by Harry Potter."

"Yes, but, honestly Minerva, can you not say his real name? Surely a witch of _your_ considerable intellect is not incapable of realizing the power we _give_ him when we refuse to call him by the name Voldemort?"

"Force of habit," muttered the witch, "I do not like that name, the name he has chosen for himself, and it certainly is _not_ his real name. I would call him by his real name……but he does not deserve _that_ any longer. He is not the one he was when he still bore his true name."

Dumbledore nodded sagely and decided not to press the matter. He did not need her annoyed with him _now_.

"And on that same night," he said, continuing their earlier conversation, "Peter Pettigrew was apparently killed, along with thirteen other Muggles. And the one responsible for everything that happened that night – except for Voldemort's 'disappearance' – was Sirius Black."

McGonagall was proud to note that she didn't even flinch at Dumbledore's words.

"There is no _'apparently'_ about it, Albus; Peter Pettigrew _was_ killed. By Black. James and Lily were betrayed; again, by Black."

"And that is where I must start to disagree with you, Minerva," said Dumbledore, shaking his head remorsefully. "For _that_ story is not, by any means, accurate…nor does it truthfully describe the events that took place on that night, fourteen years ago."

"Albus," there was a weary, somewhat _warning_ note in the Transfiguration's Professor's voice. "Albus, _please_, I cannot understand why you are bringing up these…past memories, but I can honestly tell you that I do not _want_ to experience-"

"-It is necessary, Minerva," interrupted Dumbledore, sadly. "As Harry told us, Lord Voldemort has returned to a human form, and his Death Eaters have been summoned to him-"

"-Severus!" It suddenly registered in McGonagall's head why the Potions' master had looked so…pale and touchy.

"Yes, he felt the call of the Dark Mark," said Dumbledore, sounding…old, "but he did not go to him. And yet…I-" he paused for a moment. "I have asked him to take up his role as a spy, once more. Just as I have asked a…friend to gather up the members of the Order of the Phoenix."

McGonagall slumped back in her seat.

"Then it is starting. Again," she whispered, closing her eyes against the horrid, morbid memories that resurfaced in her mind, mainly concerning her former students and how war pitted them against each other. Against _her_.

"Yes, it is," said Dumbledore, a steely note in his voice. "And we _will_ be prepared this time. Lord Voldemort will be strong, stronger, perhaps, than he was during the last war, but we cannot let him emerge successful. We are fortunate that young Harry…that young Harry survived, and returned to inform us of this. Although it is clear that we will not have the Ministry's help…"

McGonagall snorted.

"That Ministry has _never_ done anything good," she said, heatedly. "Cornelius never was an ideal candidate for the position he's in now; heaven knows how _he_ was elected."

"But he _is_ the Minister of Magic, and it would do us well to remember that," added Dumbledore. "If he will not believe us, none in his Ministry will."

"But surely-" Dumbledore waved his hand casually, stopping her in mid-sentence.

"Enough of that," he said, "We can discuss that later. For the moment, I would like to return to what we were talking about earlier; namely, about Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black." He glanced at the dark-haired woman somewhat sternly as she opened her mouth, no doubt to protest, and was satisfied when she said nothing.

Waving his wand at one of the cupboards in the corner of the office, he started to push aside a few of the rolls of parchment, and the ink bottles that littered the space on the table before him. With an apologetic glance at his companion, he also Vanished the teapot, the tray, the biscuits and both of their cups.

McGonagall realized why he did all of this when the silver Pensieve dropped down between the two of them. For a moment, all she could do was stare at it.

"…_Why_-?" she questioned, after a moment or two.

"Because you will understand this better when you _see_ it," said Dumbledore, as he took a deep breath and tapped his wand to his head before dipping the thing into the basin of the Pensieve. He repeated this a few times, before he gestured at his companion. "After you, my dear."

* * *

**A/N**

Well, I hope that was alright. It was a bit longer than the previous chapters, but I didn't really want to stop it at any other point. Of course, the next chapter will be a sort of continuation of this scene...and will be up, hopefully, soon.

See ya soon!

Siriusgirl1


	4. The Headmaster and the Escaped Convict

**A/N**

Well, here's chapter four; a continuation of the previous scene! Hope you enjoy it. And thanks a lot for the reviews!

**Regina: **I do hope that I didn't offend you with the comment I made in my last author's note. I have nothing against those who _do_ like the SB/MM ship; hey, it's a free world after all, isn't it? And I most certainly don't doubt that there are plenty of well-written fanfics based on that particular ship. I was just expressing _my_ feelings on the pairing; expressing _my_ dislike of it. Maybe I should have made that clear…? In any case, I am sorry about it.

* * *

**Chapter Four:**** The Headmaster and the Escaped Convict**

They were in a different room; it was an office, and a familiar one at that. It didn't take the dark-haired witch long to recognize it as the Charms' professor's office.

_The dark haired man sat stiffly in one of the chairs, face pale and eyes seeming to shine with raw emotion as he stared at the bearded wizard who sat across him. _

"_So, we have finally managed to catch you, Mr. Black." _

"_Yeah, you have." There was a moment's silence. _

"_Did you really think that we would let you have Harry? That we would allow you to…complete what you started?" There was no twinkle in the elderly wizard's eyes as he stared across at the former Hogwarts student. _

"_I wouldn't be able to answer that," said the dark-haired man, his shoulders thrown back in what could be called an arrogant position, "because it wasn't Harry that I was after." _

"_Oh?"_

"_Yeah. I was after the rat…I explained everything to Harry…and he understands…" his voice was thick with something that he didn't seem to be comfortable with. "He, at least, seems to believe me, when the last time he'd seen me was when he was just one year old."_

_He laughed then, a bark-like laugh. "He believed me when those who I have known for practically my entire life just turned their backs on me. Funny how the world works, isn't it, _Professor_?" _

_The elderly wizard stared into his grey eyes for a moment, without saying anything. _

"_Yes, it is funny how the world works; funny how a man could find it possibly to betray his best-friend to his death. To betray his _brother_ to his death."_

_It would have seemed impossible for the fact to turn paler than it already was; but it did._

"_Don't you dare – how could you even –" he was breathing heavily, almost gasping for breath as he clenched his hands into fists. "I did _not_ betray Lily and James; I would have _died_ rather than betray them! But," he sneered, "what would _you_ know? All _you_ ever cared about was getting what you wanted; having things work out in your favor…having the satisfaction of knowing you were right…" _

_The elderly wizard nodded sagely._

"_Yes, but clearly, I was wrong when it came to you, Mr. Black," he said, quietly, his voice one of steel. "I thought you were different from your family. I thought there was actually some _hope_ for you who cared not one whit for your family's obsession with the Dark Arts…"_

_The younger man's face twisted into an expression of fury._

"_Say what you will, but never," his eyes glinted, "_never_ accuse me of playing with the Dark Arts. I _loathe_ that form of magic, as you very well know. In case you have forgotten, I happened to excel in _Defense Against _the Dark Arts."_

"_I cannot say that I know much about you, Mr. Black…" _

_Heaving a dejected sigh, the dark-haired man slumped back into his chair, the fight seeming to leave his body just like that. _

"_You're all the same," he murmured, "every single one of you. Here you are, seated before me, having once promised me that you would do all you could to ensure the just treatment of all students – both past and present – and yet you are ready to condemn me to death."_

_He chuckled. "I will admit that I deserve it. For I _was_ responsible for their deaths…" He paused. "If Remus hadn't forgotten to take his Potion…we would be speaking to each other differently, Professor. _You_ would be realizing that what you _believed _to have happened, thirteen years ago, was…incorrect."_

"_Would I?"_

_The dark-haired wizard nodded._

"_Yeah," he said, his voice hoarse. "But it doesn't matter. Not now, anyway. It's too late." He suddenly looked the elderly wizard in the eye; stormy grey eyes meeting clear blue. "When they…give me to the Dementors…the students will not be witnessing…_it_, will they?"_

_His interrogator shook his head, a look of surprise flashing quickly across his face. _

"_No, of course not," he said, watching the man nod._

"_That's good. I don't want Harry to see…well, you know," he said, with a shudder at the thought of the Dementors' Kiss. "If he's anything like his father, he'd never forgive himself. Not when he knows the truth…" _

"_The truth, Mr. Black?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_What truth?" _

"…_It…really doesn't matter."_

"_Doesn't it?"_

_Grey eyes met clear blue once more, much as the elderly wizard had hoped. _

"_No," said the dark-haired man. "It doesn't. My soul is going to leave my body soon, and I don't see anything happening that can possibly change that fact, so-" he broke off abruptly, drawing inward as though…he had just heard, just sensed something. _

_He glared at the elderly wizard. "You're reading my mind!" _

"_Am I…?" _

"_Stop it. There's nothing there for you to see; for you to need to know."_

"_Isn't there? What about all of that…guilt that you possess, thinking about your dear friends? Not to mention their son?"_

"_Stop it."_

"_Is that…regret that I see? Ah, yes, it _is_. So Azkaban _has_ done you some good, Mr. Black-"_

"_-Get out of my head, Dumbledore! Get the _hell_ out of my head! Can't you let a man face his Death in peace? _Must_ you torment me till the very end?! I'm not bloody Voldemort; true, to you and everyone else in Wizarding Britain, I may not seem too different from the man, but I deserve a bit more _respect_ than he does. At least, the old Sirius Black deserves some." _

_The elderly wizard did not answer, even as he felt the young male draw in as much strength as he could, trying to block his mind from him. He knew that it would not be easy for the man, for it was very clear that he was emotionally distraught. _

_Something told him that he wasn't distraught just at the thought of him upcoming death. And that made him curious. His earlier words made him suspicious. _

_Zooming through the various memories that the young man obviously treasured, or thought of most often – most of which were of his days at Hogwarts, along with his friends – his clear blue eyes widened as he struck gold. _

"_You changed…? Without…telling me?" There was a slight quiver in his voice that went unnoticed to the dark-haired man. "You used Peter…?"_

"_I _said_ to get out of-"_

"_-You were not…?" The elderly wizard inhaled sharply, his face paling slightly. "_He_ was the Secret-Keeper? A decoy, a bluff…no one would know, as they would have expected it to be you. And he betrayed you all…a spy of Voldemort's for quite some time, I see…"_

_He understood now; everything that he saw as he made his way through the young man's mind. He hadn't killed those thirteen Muggles; it had been Peter Pettigrew, servant and spy to Lord Voldemort. "But how did he-" he broke off. "Peter was an Animagus? An unregistered Animagus?" _

_Unwittingly, the dark-haired man nodded, although he looked extremely wary. "But how-? I mean no offence…but he was not the brightest-" A laugh cut him off._

"_Why are you telling _me_ you mean no offence?" questioned the prisoner. "Do you think I'd _care_ if you called him a bloody Squib? He and I aren't exactly on good terms now. We've never been, not since…" He stopped, unwilling to go there. "He wasn't the only unregistered Animagus at Hogwarts. We managed it in our fifth year – three and a half years of planning and research, and we did it."_

"_We…?" _

_The ghost of a smile flitted across the pale man's face._

"_Me, James and…Peter." His eyes had a faraway look in them. "We knew about Remus being a werewolf, and wanted to do something to help him. To make things seem more…bearable for him." _

_The elderly wizard looked interested._

"_What forms did you take, if I may ask? You and James?" For he already knew about the rat. _

"_James was a stag," said the man, closing his eyes against the fresh pain in his chest. "Prongs." He added hastily; "a nickname." _

_Of course, the elderly wizard knew there was more to it than that, and he had to fight to keep the amazement off his face as he read the man's quickly disappearing thoughts on the map they had toiled to create. They would _never_ cease to amaze him. _

"_And you?" he questioned. There was a slight pause, as the man stared calculatingly at Dumbledore, before he shrugged._

"_Well, I _am_ going to die anyway; it couldn't hurt," he muttered, as he closed his eyes. A moment later, a big, furry black dog sat on the chair he had been in, staring inquiringly at the elderly wizard seated across from him, before turning back into the dark-haired man. "Padfoot," he muttered, staring at his feet._

_His interrogator looked impressed._

"_I…don't quite know what to say, Sirius…" he said, slowly. _

"_Sirius?" There was an amused expression on the man's face. "Whatever happened to 'Mr. Black'?" He had expected a slight awkwardness, but all he got was a benign smile. _

"_Well, you see, 'Mr. Black' was the criminal who I was _sure_ had betrayed his best-friend," said the wizard, almost chirpily, "whereas 'Sirius' is the intelligent, caring young man who I _should have known _would never betray his friends."_

_There was an awkward pause in the room as the two stared at each other._

"_It's no point," muttered the young man, "I'm going to be given the Dementors' Kiss soon." He shuddered once more. "Just don't…don't let Harry see it. In fact, don't let him even _hear_ of it until it's done." _

"_Always so noble, Sirius. I _really_ should have realized…" The Hogwarts' headmaster stopped, shaking his head, before he stood up, an apologetic expression on his face. "Will I ever be able to earn your forgiveness?"_

_The grey eyed man stared at him for a moment. _

"_I don't know…it's not like I'm going to be _around_ long enough for you to _do anything_ to earn my forgiveness," he said, with a shrug. "And I most certainly don't want to die, leaving behind people who seek forgiveness they cannot attain until they too, are dead…"_

"_You may find that to _not_ be the case, Sirius," said the Headmaster, as he laid a hand on the boy's shoulder._

"_No, I'm not getting my hopes up," said the man firmly, not meeting the Headmaster's gaze. "Thanks. For…well, I dunno. For not expelling me from Hogwarts, all those years ago, I guess…"_

_The elderly wizard smiled._

"_My dear boy, it would have been a _crime_ to do so." With a last encouraging pat on the shoulder, he turned around and left the office, a thoughtful expression on his face. _

Feeling a tug at her elbow, the dark-haired woman started, and whirled around startled as her companion appeared in her sight, a grim expression on his face. He nodded upward, and she immediately knew what he was asking her to do.

She turned back to stare at the dark haired man, watching as his image turned hazy, before it disappeared completely, along with the office.

It was the end of the memory. Wordlessly, she followed Albus Dumbledore out.

* * *

**A/N**

Okay, so I intended to have the scene brought to an end with this chapter, but I found that to do that, I had two options; either I cut out the Pensieve-memory of Dumbledore's chat with Sirius in Flitwick's office – which we know he had, as he mentions it to Harry briefly – _or_ I leave the memory intact but just leave out McGonagall's reaction to everything.

I suppose the sensible thing to do would have been to cut out the memory, but I found, after typing it out, that I didn't have the heart to do so. And I couldn't very well leave out McGonagall's reaction! But still…I couldn't combine the two, or else this would have been a _very long_ chapter. So, I, somewhat unwillingly, decided to stretch this scene to a _third_ chapter, which would deal with McGonagall's reaction. I _do_ apologize if it seems tedious and too long!

Rest assured though, that once that chapter is done, we'll be moving on to different scenes!

Well, till next time,

Siriusgirl1


	5. Sweet Merlin

**A/N**

And _finally_, I get to finish this scene. Yikes, it took one chapter more than I expected to get this done with. I was sorely tempted to leave aside the whole memory of Sirius talking to Dumbledore in Flitwick's office, but…well, I didn't have the heart to delete it once it was typed out.

In any case, I hope it was worth it.

There will be one or two more chapters, set during the time of Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts, and after that I'll focus on what _could have_ happened during the summer holidays leading to Harry's fifth year – and before the Order of the Phoenix starts.

* * *

**Chapter Five:**** Sweet Merlin!**

They remained quiet as they settled back into their own respective chairs; the same ones they had always occupied, throughout the years.

Dumbledore found himself twiddling his thumbs and averting his eyes as he gave his Deputy a moment or two to regain her composure. Her face was unnervingly pale, and her dark eyes wide, giving her the appearance of one in great shock.

He was seriously considering summoning a Calming draft from the hospital wing, when she spoke.

"Sweet _Merlin_…"

"Why, yes, he certainly _was _said to be a-"

"-Thirteen years, Albus…_thirteen_ _years_ in that…that…"

"You cannot possibly imagine the vast amount guilt that gnaws at me about that, Minerva."

"Someone should have – we should have _known_, Albus. _I _should have known. He…was sorted into Gryffindor for a reason-"

"-Ah, but then, Minerva, so was Peter Pettigrew…and yet, that didn't stop him from choosing the wrong side, did it?"

"Do not _speak to me_ about that…that _vile_ excuse for a –"

"-No, Minerva, do not think in that vein. You, of all people, know how…weak of a character he was. He never _could_ believe that James, Sirius and Remus had actually befriended him and _kept him_ as a friend for all those years. All he wanted was to be accepted; to be in a position where he had _some_ sort of power…"

"But…but he _betrayed_-"

"-Yes, he did, but there might come a time when he will help young Harry."

"_Help – _Harry – Albus, _he_ is the reason why the boy is an orphan!"

"Yet he owes a wizard's debt to Harry, who stopped Sirius and Remus from killing him in the hopes that Sirius' name would be cleared, and Peter would rightfully be sent to Azkaban."

"But that didn't happen…"

"No."

"Albus, the Death Eaters would have known that Black wasn't-"

"-one of them? Yes, they most _certainly_ would have known."

"Then why-"

"-My dear Minerva, they hated Sirius, they hated _anyone_ who opposed their master, but…specifically Sirius. I suspect that was Bellatrix' doing. She was always such a charming, kind-hearted girl-"

"-I'm not talking about her! I am talking about Severus. He would have _known_ that he was innocent! That it was Pettigrew all along!"

Dumbledore sighed.

"You must understand, Minerva, that at the time, Severus was not…as privy to Voldemort's plans as he...as I _hope_ he will be in the time to come. I cannot tell you the full story, my dear, for that is for me and Severus to know of…"

He paused. "Yet, even if, and I mean _if_, he had known that Sirius was…not as unhinged as we all thought him to be, there is a…great possibility that he, er, would have held his peace on that one…"

"But _why_? Surely, an innocent-"

"-You are no stranger to the animosity shared by the pair of them, are you?"

"I – no – Albus, that was…when they were in _school_. Surely that could not have-"

"-Minerva, do you remember…that time, I think our young men were in their fifth year of schooling, when Severus...had a…near-fatal encounter with dear Remus Lupin? And when I mean near-fatal, I mean…Remus in his werewolf form…"

Her lips were pressed together, in a thin line, but she nodded.

"Yes. I was led to believe that Severus had seen Lupin heading out, had gotten suspicious and had followed him. And that Potter, who had seen it – _and_ knowing of Lupin's…affliction – ran after him and managed to get him away in the nick of time."

"Ah, you see, you were…led to believe incorrectly." Dumbledore fidgeted under the dark, explanation-demanding glare that was patiently bestowed upon him. "You see, my dear, it was Sirius who informed Severus that, should he wish to find out _why_ Lupin kept on disappearing monthly, he should just follow him."

The Transfiguration Professor's eyes were wide once more. "Yes, my dear; Severus went after Lupin as a result of Sirius' prodding. Luckily for everyone concerned, James heard what he had done and got Severus to safety." He sighed. "But, you see, ever since that day, our bright, cheery Potions' master has…_despised_ Sirius, and those who have anything to do with him."

He cocked his head to a side, an amused twinkling in his eyes. "Oh dear, I see more problems for Harry in the future, with _that_ one…" He smiled pleasantly at McGonagall, who was opening and closing her mouth, resembling a fish out of water. He told her that too, pleasantly of course, and received a _darker_ glare in return.

"I – oh – he – _how dare he?_" she gasped, as she stared at her colleague. "He _knew_ that Lupin was a werewolf – he _intentionally led_ – Lupin could have _killed_ or _bitten_ – why that _little-_"

"Breathe, Minerva, _breathe_," instructed the Headmaster, cheerfully.

"But he – Severus could have – I don't _believe_…one of _my Gryffindors_ doing something as – as –"

"Minerva, my dear, I think you are missing the point entirely. As gratified as I am that you are outraged on Severus' behalf – thereby dispelling his belief that you would have favored your dear Gryffindor in the matter – I must point out that _that is not the main issue_ here." He stared at her.

"As you probably recall, I mentioned in the corridor that…I had to talk to you about a few things. _This_ – " he waved at the Pensieve, "-was one of them. And it was important, because…I have sent Sirius to round up the members of the Order of the Phoenix. Those who are _willing_ to take part in this, of course."

"You sent _him_ to –" McGonagall didn't know whether to laugh or just stare disbelievingly at her colleague. "You sent the man we believe to be a mass _murderer_ to gather everyone up?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"_We_, Minerva?" he queried. "Surely…you don't believe – after what you've seen…?"

"I…don't know, Albus," said the dark-haired witch, quietly. "I…don't know anymore."

"I understand. I _was_ rather stunned myself." He sighed. "In any case, they will-"

"-Wait, you have been in touch with Bl – with him? When? How?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"My dear," he said, cheerily, "Sirius _was_ an unregistered Animagus. Did you not see it for yourself in the Pensieve?" The woman's brows furrowed for a moment, before realization hit her.

"The – the _dog_?!" she exclaimed, shrilly.

"Yes, Minerva, the dog. Although he likes to be called either Snuffles or Padfoot – he would really prefer Padfoot."

"The dog. _Sirius Black_ was the…_dog_?"

"Yes, the very same dog that you escorted into my office from Hagrid's place."

"No _wonder_…" murmured the dark-haired woman. "He was quite…intelligent…he…_oh, goodness_, he _bit_ Mr. Zabini-"

"Mr. Zabini?" echoed Dumbledore, his brows raised.

"No, Mr. Zabini's father."

"His father? Er…which one? His biological father is not around, _and _his mother did love her men, so…"

"His _latest_ father."

"Oh. I see." There was a definite note of amusement in his voice. "And why did he do that?"

"He was…threatening…he wanted to find out from me what had happened, and was rather rude…and he just…_bit_ him…"

Dumbledore chuckled.

"He should have known better than to be disrespectful to a Hogwarts Professor," he said, simply. McGonagall stared at him for a moment, before she found herself slumping back into her chair, suddenly rather tired. The weight of everything she had seen, she had been _told_, suddenly hit her like a ton of bricks.

How were you supposed to handle the fact that everything you had forced yourself to believe for thirteen years had been…false? How did you dispel thirteen years' worth of hatred and anger?

"Oh dear lord…" she mumbled, as she buried her face in her hands. "I don't – I _can't_ –" She said nothing more after that.

Dumbledore nodded, conjuring up some more warm tea and biscuits. He could most _certainly_ understand how seemingly impossible all of this would be, to take in so suddenly.

But on the bright side, he had done it and – he was both proud _and_ pleased to say – he had done it without losing any part of his anatomy for _daring _to bring up one of the few subjects that this formidable woman found _touchy_. He was glad he had used the Pensieve, as opposed to telling her outright.

_Hmm_, he thought, _I wonder…what would startle Mrs. Zabini more; the fact that her latest male interest was bitten by a dog, or that her latest male interest was, effectively, bitten by Sirius Black? Hmm…that is interesting. _

_And disturbing. I think I will go and see how Alastor is doing._

**A/N**

Finally! The scene is _done_! Ahh…now it's time to start the next scene or two. Hehe, hope you enjoyed this!

Till next time,

Siriusgirl1


	6. Discoveries and Bad Tempers

**A/N**

I'm glad that everyone seems to be enjoying these little scenes! Thank you all for your reviews.

This scene does not actually feature Sirius, but he _is_ mentioned…well, maybe towards the end of the whole scene. It's more of a scene that was typed to…hmm, portray McGonagall's relationship with former, non-Gryffindor students. Particularly a certain Slytherin.

This is set a few days after the previous scene, in case anyone's interested.

Well, hope you enjoy it!

* * *

**Chapter Six:**** Discoveries and Bad Tempers**

"Severus, I know you're in there."

The dark-haired Professor received no reply as she stood patiently outside what she knew was the entrance to the Potions' Master's private rooms.

"Open the door, Severus. I _would_ like to talk to _you_ and I'm not too keen on carrying on conversations with myself."

Her jaw set, the Deputy Headmistress drew herself to her full height and glared at the old dark-haired wizard whose portrait guarded the entrance she desperately wished would open.

"I would like to go inside," she said, simply. The – quite obviously _Slytherin_ – wizard sneered at her.

"You are more than welcome to _try_."

"I'm afraid you misunderstood me. I said _I would like to go inside_."

"By all means, go ahead and _try_."

Now, this kind of unpleasantness was not something that the Transfiguration Professor was able to tolerate – and from a _portrait_ no less.

And _especially not_ when she had a more pressing things on her mind.

She narrowed her eyes.

"Let me rephrase that; I demand that you allow me entrance into Severus Snape's quarters." Again, she was sneered at.

"Typical Gryffindor stupidity," he muttered to himself – although it was clear that he did want her to hear him. "I said no, woman, so go and find yourself some other-"

The old, dark-haired wizard stopped in mid-sentence when he saw the wand that was pointed at his face, with the tip of the wooden item barely an inch away from his nose.

"-_Watch_ your tongue and _learn_ your place," snapped Minerva McGonagall. "I am a Professor at Hogwarts, and I deserve some respect. If not as a mere _Professor_, then certainly as the school's Deputy Headmistress." She took a deep breath as a somewhat foreboding emotion surged in her gut.

Why hadn't Severus opened the door for her? True, they may not be the best of friends – she didn't even want to _think_ of the possibility of that happening – but they certainly…got along well. Not _well_, per say, but…civilly.

_But why-_? Shaking her head clear of thought, she turned to the portrait once more, her wand arm as steady as ever. "For the last time, before I completely incinerate you and this _lovely_ green and silver frame; _I want to go inside._"

She only lowered her wand and removed the threatening glower from her face when she had almost entered the room.

_Honestly, _she thought, _who does he think he is? Hmm…maybe I could get the Fat Lady to-_

"Severus!" Minerva McGonagall hurried further into the dimly lit living room, her eyes not moving from the figure that was crumpled up in front of the fireplace, in a heap of black robes. "Severus? Severus!" She was on her knees now, having turned the Potions' Master's figure so that he was lying on his back. His face was pale, and when she took one of his hands in hers, she gasped at the iciness of the limb.

Quickly stoking up the waning fire, she pointed her wand at the man, and muttered "_Enervate._" It was all she could do to wait patiently as the Potions' Master regained consciousness. She only allowed him a moment to compose himself – to allow his eyes to flutter open – before speaking. "What happened? How do you feel?"

The man as on his feet in a flash; a strange look in his eyes as he stared at the dark-haired witch.

"Minerva." The strange look disappeared as he realized just _who_ it was. Staggering slightly, he moved, unconsciously, so that he was closer to the fire. "What are you doing here?"

McGonagall was too busy watching the steady quivering of his body to pay attention to what he was saying, forcing him to repeat the question.

"I did come to see you," she said, bringing her eyes to meet his. "But I suppose I have come at a-"

"-How did you get in here? I am sure that I have not given you the password to my _private quarters_, for it is, as the name suggests, _private_."

McGonagall blinked.

"I – well, I have my ways," she said, a bit taken aback by his attitude. Yes, it _was_ his usual attitude, but…something was _clearly_ wrong with him and he did not seem the slightest bit bothered.

There was a spark of realization in the Potions' Master's dark eyes when he turned to look at her for a moment.

"Ah," he said. "I will have to come up with something to prevent my guard portrait from being intimidated…"

_This is _not_ right, _thought McGonagall, the ugly frustrated beast raising its head in her gut, _he has _not_ stopped…twitching since he stood, and he's – _

"You're twitching."

The man raised his eyebrows at her.

"And you're not."

"Severus, you're _twitching_," said McGonagall, ignoring his reply. "I found you _in a heap_ on the ground. What's going on? Is everything alright?"

"Yes, I _am_ twitching. And no, you would not have found me…in such a condition had you not _barged into my private quarters_ in the first place and, no, everything is _not_ alright because I am going to have to speak to the Headmaster about making sure that private quarters _stay_ private," said Snape, a closed expression changing his face.

"Go ahead," said McGonagall, as she glared sternly at her former student. "And I will just inform him that _someone_ needs to look after you – after explaining what condition I found you in, of course."

"I do _not_ need any looking after," snarled Snape, the quivering increasing so much so that he had to place a hand on the mantle above the fireplace to steady himself. But of course, he made to impress upon his unwelcome visitor that he was brushing dust off from the mantle. Like he wanted her to see how weak he was at the moment.

"For heaven's sake, Severus!" snapped McGonagall, impatiently, "I have been looking for you for _two days_. I wouldn't have forced myself into your _private quarters_ if I hadn't been sure that you were in. Honestly, you'd think that – Severus, I think you should sit down."

"No, I think I am quite content with standing where I am, thank you," sneered the dark-haired man, suddenly catching sight of the paleness on his colleague's face. "May I suggest that _you_ sit down? Before you collapse, as your face is hinting you will?"

"You're bleeding!"

"I am _not_. Where are you – what in the – _what_ – no – " Before he really knew what happened, the younger man found himself lying down on his back, along the length of the couch, while a stern-faced McGonagall conjured up bandages and a few vials of murky liquid. "What are you-"

"-Listen to me, and listen to me _carefully_, Severus Snape. You will keep your mouth _shut_, and not protest. You seem to have sustained some injury to your arm which, I might add, is bleeding quite…convincingly. No wonder you look so pale, boy!" She shook her head. "Now stay still while I clean this up."

He struggled, he really did, when she pulled the sleeve of his robes up, trying to find the source of the bleeding. But it was to no avail; she had his arm in a vice-like grip, and he could not break free. Add to that the fact that he still _twitched_, well, it ensured that he could not do a thing to prevent her from seeing it.

He heard her gasp when she spotted it, and averted his eyes, deciding that the ceiling was quite an interesting thing to stare at. "Severus," she said, slowly, "you-"

"-Yes," he said, suddenly, not wanting to let her finish what he _knew_ she was going to say. "I know."

"But what-?"

"-Just do…your job, please."

"You needn't tell _me_ that. But what happened? Why…who-?"

He could not help but laugh dryly.

"_Who_, Minerva? Surely you have heard everything from the Headmaster? And if you have, _surely_ you are intelligent enough to figure out who it was that did…_this_."

"I can guess who did it," said the Transfiguration Professor, quietly, as she magically cleaned up the wound that looked as though someone had taken a blade in an attempt to _cut out_ the Dark Mark that stained the pale skin. "But I am interested in knowing why."

"He believed that I was not loyal to him."

"How did he find-"

"-It was pretty obvious, Minerva. I did not go to him when he was resurrected. When the Dark Mark burned once more, when he called us, I stayed here at Hogwarts."

"So he doesn't know-?"

"-Of my _real_…purpose? No, I don't suppose he does. Not unless I do something stupid to inform him of it."

"But he still let you live?"

"I managed to…convince him that I had bided my time here at Hogwarts, getting friendly with, and I quote, _'that dirty little Mudblood and Muggle-lover'_ so that I would be of greater service to him when he returned. For I would have had Albus Dumbledore's trust by then."

"And he believed that?" questioned McGonagall, once the bandages had wrapped themselves around his arm. "Will it be alright, to cover the mark up? It will not…prevent you from knowing if you are…called again?"

Snape had pulled himself into a seated position now, lowering his sleeve back to its proper place.

"Don't worry, I _will_ be able to serve my purpose to the _Order_, since that is what you are indirectly asking," he hissed, masking a slight twinge of…hurt behind a sneer.

He earned a swift, sharp slap for that, and found himself staring up at an irate witch, unable to keep the shock from his face.

* * *

**A/N**

Continued in the next chapter!

Siriusgirl1


	7. Once A Student, Always a Student

**A/N**

Well, here's the second part of the previous scene. I was wondering, hmm…does anyone think that I should make sure that these scenes stay in one chapter? I got the feeling that I would _really_ have liked this to be added in – directly – with the previous chapter, but it would have been much longer than the usual length of the other chapters. Just let me know what you think, alright?

**excessivelyperky:** I hope you like this scene - the previous chapter and this one too!

Enjoy!

* * *

_Recap:_

_Snape had pulled himself into a seated position now, lowering his sleeve back to its proper place._

"_Don't worry, I will be able to serve my purpose to the Order, since that is what you are indirectly asking," he hissed, masking a slight twinge of…hurt behind a sneer. _

_He earned a swift, sharp slap for that, and found himself staring up at an irate witch, unable to keep the shock from his face. _

* * *

**Chapter Seven:** **Once a student, Always a student**

"I was asking so that I could be sure that you will not be tortured once more, should he call for you and you do not answer his summons," she said slowly, fury laced into her voice. "But, by all means, continue to see the negative side of all people. I suppose it _is_ too late to teach an old dog new tricks, I suppose."

As the two stared at each other; one in anger and the other in surprise; McGonagall noticed how quickly her colleague's pale skin had turned red where she had slapped him.

And just like that, guilt hit her. She had never, _never_, in all her thirty eight years of teaching, raised a hand to a student.

Never.

There had never once been a moment in her entire career when she had felt the desire to _physically_ hurt a student.

_Oh Merlin, _she thought, horrified, _what have I _done?

"Severus – I – Merlin, my boy, I did not – oh – I am sorry, I do not know what came over me and –" The Potions' Master raised a hand, silencing her – which he should _not_ have been capable of doing, for _no one_ silence her like that, not unless they wanted to incur her temper.

"It's quite alright," he said, tiredly. "I…supposed I deserved it."

Now it was McGonagall's turn to gape at him.

_Did he just-? No, _she thought, shaking her head ever so slightly, _no, I am just hearing things. _She stared at the younger man. _Good heavens. He _did_ say-?_

She was snapped out of her thoughts when she noticed he was still quivering. Reaching out for the vials she had summoned, she handed one to the Potions' Master, who looked at it questioningly.

"It will help. With the…body pains," she said, a knowing gleam in her eyes. "I have at _least_ three decades worth of experience more than you do, Severus. I know what the after effects of prolonged and repeated exposure to the _Cruciatus _curse are."

A dark flush crept across the dark-haired man's face and neck, made all the more evident by the paleness of his skin. McGonagall felt her lips twitch upward as he refused to meet her eyes.

_Kids_, she thought to herself, amusedly, before she handed him another potion, daring him to question her at risk to his own persona. He downed the potion without a complaint, which was the same thing he did for the third one.

Of course, he would have known that she had given him something to fight whatever infection might have been caused by the…attack on his Dark Mark, and that the last potion he had been given was a Sleeping Draft.

But he didn't say a word as she banished the remnants of the bandages and stoked the fire once more. Even though it was summer, this area of the castle was always quite chilly.

"You said you were looking for me? Was there any particular reason…?" he asked, softly, as he sank back into the couch.

McGonagall nodded, surprised that she had almost forgotten.

"Yes, I –" She paused. "Albus…he told me about it all. About…Si-Black." She almost regretted mentioning it when the closed expression found itself back on the boy – on the young man's face.

"I see. I am sorry to disappoint you, Minerva, but I will _not_ apologize for my behavior concerning-"

"-I just wanted to…apologize, on…my House's behalf, for that foolish, _dangerous_ stunt that he pulled in your fifth year," interrupted McGonagall. "If I had known about it at the time, I – "

"-You mean you…didn't know about it then?"

"Of course I didn't. Do you think I would have allowed Black to…remain relatively unscathed after endangering the lives of _three_ of my students?"

"He _was_ your favorite little lion cub. Why _else_ was he allowed to stay in school, even after all his pranks and…with his arrogant behavior?"

"He was not – he _was_ a very bright student, and, as you already know, I value them. Oh yes, I do value _all_ of my students, but particularly the highly skilled ones, as all teachers are wont to do."

"Admit it; you favored him over the rest."

"I did _not_."

"You did. Did you think no one noticed? Did you think no one noticed how you put _Hagrid_ in charge of a generous quarter of his detentions? Hagrid, who took him on _exploration missions_ into the Forbidden Forest, chatting jovially on the way, instead of making him clean up after flobberworms?"

"…Severus-"

"-It _is_ alright to have a favorite student, Minerva. I have one myself, as I am sure you have heard. Draco Malfoy."

"No, Severus, _that_ is not favoritism, _that_ is intimidation by name – something which the senior Malfoys are all quite good at. I did not _favor_ Si – Black." There was a pause. "As the Head of Gryffindor House, it was my responsibility to ensure the well-being – both _mental_ and physical – of my Gryffindors."

"Ah. So he was a tortured soul?"

McGonagall glared at him, unconsciously noting how his eyelids kept on drooping down with sleep, before he forced them open again.

"You are not the only one who…had problems with family."

"Problems with family? He was a _Black_ for-"

"-And _that_ was the main cause of his problems. But I will _not_ discuss this with you. You are tired. Go to sleep, Severus."

"I – what? I am most _certainly_ not tired-"

"-I will Stun you and levitate you to your room if I have to, Severus. I am not beneath doing that."

The two glared at each other for a moment, before the Potions' Master got to his feet, wobbling as he stood.

"You are a _menace_."

"Why, thank you, Severus. I love you too," answered McGonagall, dryly, as she watched the younger man shuffle his way to his room.

"G'night Professor," he mumbled softly, his voice slurred with the potion-induced sleep that was just about ready to overcome him.

McGonagall sent him an almost affectionate glance. _Almost_.

"Goodnight, my boy." She waited for a few minutes after he had closed the door to his room, and, with a sigh, headed towards the portrait hole. Honestly, that boy's _stubbornness_ was going to get him _killed_ one day.

She smirked as an amusing thought entered her mind. _And to think that he thinks that only Gryffindors can be quite so stubborn. Perhaps I should ask him tomorrow why exactly he shares this…very Gryffindor quality?_

Ignoring the rude comment that the portrait of the dark-haired wizard gave her – having, quite evidently, not forgotten how she had gotten him to open the entrance – she had only taken two steps down the corridor, when a familiar voice spoke out.

"Well done, Minerva. Very well done."

"Albus." The wizard's eyes were twinkling.

"Minerva."

"Albus…?"

"Minerva…?"

It took the Deputy Headmistress a moment to realize that she was being played with. And she scowled.

"_Albus Dumbledore_," she started, her hands on her hips when she suddenly paused. "_Why_ in Merlin's name do you have a…_badger_ on your head?"

Dumbledore merely smiled as he raised his hand to pet the soft, very much alive, black lump that rested on his favorite hat.

"Ah, yes, I almost forgot about him," he said, jovially. "I found this little fellow in the forest and gave him a lolly or two. It seems that the little fellow has taken a liking to me…"

The dark-haired Witch could only gape at him, unsure of what she should say. "Of course, there is also the possibility that he just wants more lollies…" He smiled. "I think I will indulge him in that and then take him back to the Forest. Would you like to come-?"

"…No," said McGonagall, managing to regain her composure. "No. It – I think I will retire for the night."

"Oh very well. If you insist. Good night my dear." With a smile and a wave – and a strange sound from the _badger_ – her superior walked cheerily away from her, almost seeming to take the light with him when he left.

_Merlin. If I didn't _know_ that man, I would find it very, _very_ hard to believe that he had defeated Grindelwald. And that he is the only one the Dark Lord fears. _

Shaking her troubled head, she headed towards her private quarters, greeting the portrait of Godric Gryffindor with a weary smile.

* * *

**A/N**

Alright, that's the end of _that _scene. Hehe, I hope you enjoyed it. I am beginning to realize that I quite like writing bits with Dumbledore in them. I didn't use to before, but…I apparently do now.

Well, see ya next time!

Siriusgirl1


	8. Portraits and Oh My is that?

**A/N**

Rightio, _this_ scene – again, will probably be a two-part thing – takes places in between the end of the fourth and the beginning of the fifth book. (I guess the title sort of gives away what might happen in this scene?) Hope this will be alright!

* * *

**Chapter Eight:**** Portraits and – Oh My…is that-?**

"I just do _not_ believe their _nerve_! Why would you want to make up such a…story? Why would Potter-"

"-I believe that is the question that the sensible of our fellow witches and wizards will be asking each other."

"And the way they're treating Potter – it's as though he's some kind of attention-seeker! He's in my _house_; I should know him better than-"

"-Yes, but Rita Skeeter, it seems, has done quite a lot of damage with her articles during the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

"And, oh Merlin, don't they realize that behaving in such an idiotic manner is only degrading Diggory and his memory? How do they _think_ he died? Can they honestly believe that the _maze_ killed him?"

"I am afraid that, until the Ministry _and_ hence, the _Prophet_ believe our little 'story', young Cedric Diggory's memory will continue to be insulted."

"_Ohhh_…if I could get my hands on Fudge – honestly, where did _this_ come from? I would not have expected it from him. Yes, I knew he was incompetent for the post, but…to take it to _this extent_?"

"Cornelius was never one to trust in my word, so, really, it _was_ to be expected."

"He _did_ trust in you until he _became_ the Minster! Trusted in your advice…and even _afterwards_. It's only-"

"-What has happened _has_ happened, Minerva. There is nothing that can be done immediately to change that. Of course, we _will _be working on it; heaven knows we don't need the _Ministry_ at our backs, along with Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

McGonagall looked ready to say something – no doubt to contradict him – but she seemed to think better of it, deciding, instead, to take a large sip of her hot tea that she had summoned to help calm herself.

"What did you wish to speak to me about, Albus?"

"Have a ginger newt?"

"No." There was a pause. "Thank you."

"I must say, Minerva, you needn't be afraid of a bit of sugar at your age. You are a perfectly healthy witch, and-"

"-Why am I here, Albus? You said you wished to speak to me about something."

"Yes, I did."

"…Well?"

She was given an affronted look.

"What if the thing I wanted to talk about was about you consuming a bit of sugar and-"

"-_Albus_, we don't have the time to be fooling around like this. Tell me; _why_ did you wish to see me?"

"What do you think of asking Hagrid to summon up an army of Acromantulas and Hippogriffs, to protect the boundaries of the school?"

"I – _what_?!"

"Oh! And I am sure that I could manage to get my hands on a few dragons and sphinxes!"

"Are you _out of your mind_?!"

"Now Minerva, that wasn't a particularly nice thing to say, you know. It-"

"-I don't _care_ – Merlin, look, I am _not_ in the best of tempers today. So kindly tell me what it was that you wanted to talk to me about, or I am going to politely _end_ this conversation and return to my quarters."

Blue eyes twinkled once more, immediately making the dark-haired woman wary.

"You, my dear, are no fun…" Dumbledore smiled serenely as she glared at him. "Would you like to accompany me on a…little journey?"

Minerva stared at him.

"_Albus-_"

"-It _will _be worth your while to see the place I insist on taking you to."

"We are in such a precarious situation and you want to go on a _journey_?"

"It's nothing much; just a short, quick – well, that depends on you, actually – to London."

"To London."

"Yes, to London."

"And _why_ should I do that?"

"It would be…educational." His colleague raised her eyebrows at him, causing him to hastily right his wrong. "In the sense, things will be cleared up – hopefully, that is – and…well, that is all that I am going to be able to tell you at the moment."

McGonagall sighed.

"You," she said, all but hissing, "_will_ be the death of me."

"Oh no, _I_ won't," said the Headmaster, pleasantly. "Haven't you heard that Muggle saying? It was; _'curiosity killed the cat'_ I believe. And, as you _must_ know, I am no _cat_."

He received a particularly dark glare for that.

* * *

"We are standing in the middle of a Muggle street, in our Wizarding robes no less. Albus, what are we doing here?"

"Hmm?" He sounded distracted. "What are we doing here? Well, we're standing in the middle of a Muggle street in our Wizarding robes, earning us somewhat strange looks from the woman peering through the window of No. 13, over there. Ah, here it is. Read this, please." The dark-haired woman took the piece of parchment from her colleague, slightly confused. "Out loud."

"…The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix can be found at No. 12 Grimmauld Place…" She paused. "The headquarters of –" Eyes narrowed. "_Why _did you fail to mention this in the office?" When Dumbledore smiled and opened his mouth to say something, she shook her head. "Wait, never mind, I don't want to know. That will be better for my mind at the moment."

"Ah, here we are. It certainly does take its time to appear, doesn't it?"

"Was _that_ a part of the…protection that you put up around it? For you _have_ put certain charms on the place, haven't you?"

"Yes and no to the first, and yes to the second. Half of the work was already done his parents."

"His parents?"

"Yes – I'll knock, don't worry about it. But _do_ remember to knock lightly on the doors whenever you're here. There are rather…unpleasant things that reside inside; things which, er, we could do with _not_ agitating…"

"What kind of-"

"-Dumbledore, Minerva!" commented a rather tired-looking brown haired man, as he opened the doors, stepping aside to let them enter.

"How are you today, Remus? Everything alright?" questioned Dumbledore, as the younger man close and lock the doors once more.

"I'm fine, thank you, and yes, everything is alright – well…as far as our Order work is concerned with, at the moment."

"But…?"

"Well, Si–"

McGonagall started when they heard a sudden crash from somewhere further down the corridor.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do that! I –"

"BLOOD TRAITOR!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THIS HOUSE OF MY FATHERS? FILTHY SCUM!! YOUR MOTHER WAS JUST AS BAD!! DEFILING MY HOUSE IN SUCH A MANNER, AND IT'S NOT JUST YOU! THE-"

"-I'm really, _really_ sorry. Really. Please, just-"

"-I DO NOT WANT HALF-BREEDS LIKE THAT WEREWOLF IN MY HOUSE!! AND NOR DO I WANT SONS WHO I WISH I NEVER GAVE BIRTH TO!"

Dumbledore and Remus both sighed together, before the three of them proceeded down the corridor. McGonagall noticed that the horrendous screaming got louder as they progressed.

"Good heavens," she said, raising her voice to be heard over the din, "_what_ is that? It sounds awfully familiar too."

Dumbledore smiled.

"An old friend of yours, Minerva."

Remus choked – on what and _for _what, the Deputy Headmistress was not sure – at Dumbledore's words.

"An old friend? I was under the impression that she – no, not _you_, Minerva – didn't _have_ any friends."

"Ah, that is quite true. But she and Minerva had a…what shall I say, 'special' relationship?" Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling brightly as they entered a dimly lit, wider corridor. The first thing that McGonagall saw was a pink-haired woman, standing in front of a…portrait.

It took her a moment to realize that it was the _portrait_ that was making such a racket. She watched the pink-haired girl for a moment, impatiently, waiting to see what she did about this.

But she was too intent on apologizing to the portrait.

"Oh for the love of – can't you shut it up?" she yelled, over the portrait's screams, fighting against the urge to clap her hands over her ears. She was only slightly surprised when the yelling _and_ apologizing stopped, as both the girl and the…portrait stared at her.

It took barely a moment for her to recognize the girl; Nymphadora Tonks, a Hufflepuff student.

It was the _portrait_ that caught her attention; that made her eyes widen quickly. And, from the looks of things, it seemed as though the pale, dark-haired, saliva-dripping portrait recognized her.

"YOU!! HOW DARE YOU – WHO GAVE YOU – WHAT RIGHT DO YOU HAVE TO STEP INTO THE HOUSE OF MY FOREFATHERS?! FILTHY MUGGLE-LOVER!! BLOOD TRAITOR!!! CORRUPTER OF PUREBLOODS!! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE – GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!!!"

Lupin and Tonks seemed startled at the venom in the portrait's voice as she screamed. Dumbledore, however, was merely smiling pleasantly ahead of him, as though he had expected and was used to this kind of thing.

"Excuse me, I will _not_ leave this house unless my business here is done," said McGonagall, icily, as she recovered from her initial shock.

_It's _her_ house?_ "You cannot order me around, and even if you tried, there is not much you can do to me. You are dead, Walburga Black."

"YOU ARE IN MY HOUSE!! _MY_ HOUSE! YOU WRETCHED WOMAN – YOU CORRUPTED MY FIRSTBORN, SHOWED HIM THE WAYS OF MUGGLE-LOVERS LIKE YOU AND THAT FOOLISH HEADMASTER OF YOURS! YOU RUINED IT ALL, MINERVA MCGONAGALL!"

"I _ruined_ it all? I'd like to think that I helped _save_ your 'firstborn' from the fate that most of the Black family seems to have met."

"SAVE? YOU TURNED HIM INTO A MURDERER! YOU CALL THAT SAVING-"

McGonagall's wand was out in a flash, pointed at the portrait.

"I did _not_ help him become a murderer. I-"

"-HE IS NOTHING BUT A FILTHY MURDERER!! HE WAS SENT TO AZKABAN, WASN'T HE? FOR MURDERING HIS BEST FRIENDS?! A TRUE BLACK WOULDN'T HAVE DONE THAT! A TRUE BLACK WOULDN'T HAVE MADE FRIENDS WITH HALF-BREEDS LIKE THE WEREWOLF, OR BLOOD TRAITORS LIKE _HER_!"

"Quite true, Walburga. A _true_ Black would never have done anything like that, for a _true_ Black would have been elbow-deep in the practice of the Dark Arts, and would be too busy behaving as though they have their head shoved up their posterior to take the time to befriend others."

Lupin and Tonks, both having been taught by the Transfiguration Professor, were gaping at her. Ears ringing, the brunet turned to the elderly wizard standing with them, about to suggest that they _all_ stun the portrait, but the words died in his throat when he saw what the wizard was doing.

He was sorting through a packet of sweets with an expression of utmost concentration on his face.

Sensing his former student's eyes on him, he looked up and smiled.

"Best to let them get it out of their system, I think," he said, in a tone that one would use when one was imparting a few pearls of wisdom to the less-wise, before turning his attention back to the packet of sweets.

"WRETCHED WOMAN!! I SHOULD HAVE MADE SURE YOU MET YOUR DOOM DURING THAT DUEL-"

"-Did you honestly think that _you_ could have defeated _me,_ Walburga? Not in a million years!"

"THE POWER OF THE DARK-ARTS IS STRONG. I DON'T NEED TO BE ALIVE TO ENSURE THAT SOMETHING HAPPENS TO YO-"

"-Enough. Meeting you again was an unpleasant experience, Walburga, and is one that I would _not_ like to repeat. Good day." With that, McGonagall calmly Stunned the portrait.

Lupin hurried forwards and drew the dark, moth eaten curtains over the portrait, shielding it from view.

Silence reigned in the hallway for a moment.

"I'm sorry, that was my fault. The slightest noise wakes her up, and I'm always so clumsy so-"

"-No, I am glad I was…able to deal with that woman," said McGonagall, giving the young woman a grim smile. "Nymphadora Tonks. It _has_ been quite a few years since I saw you last."

"Tonks. _Tonks_," said the woman, shuddering, and causing her former Professor to smile, before she turned her attention the elderly wizard, her eyes flashing.

"_Do_ tell," she said, too calmly, "why you _failed to mention_-"

"-I do believe you managed to put my mum in her proper place. Congratulations on that, Professor." The dark-haired woman froze as what the voice _said_ registered in her head.

'_My mum'…oh Merlin…_

Seeing the somewhat apprehensive glance Lupin was sending her out of the corner of her eye, she forced herself to turn around.

The tall, dark-haired figure standing by the far wall raised a hand in a mock salute.

…_Oh my…_

* * *

**A/N**

Hehe, well, I enjoyed writing that last bit! The second part to this will be put up in a day, as I've got to try and finish a looooong essay which I have no idea _how_ I'm going to approach. Ah well.

Hope you liked that first bit!

Till next time,

Siriusgirl1


	9. Sorry Won't Change What Happened

**A/N**

Well, here's the second part! Hehe, I'm really glad that you all seem to be enjoying this story, so far. I realized that I'm behind on my review responses – silly me – and I apologize if I haven't replied; I _will_ do it soon.

I've always thought of the Heads of Houses as being members of the staff that students can approach whenever they're having difficulties – and not just with their academic work. For example, if a student had certain…problems at home, he/she would approach his/her Head of House.

That's how I thought things would be. As great as Dumbledore is as a person, as the _Headmaster_ of the school, he can't be expected to keep an eye on every single student and figure out whatever problems they have. Of course, that doesn't mean that he _doesn't_ do that.

* * *

_Recap:_

"_-I do believe you managed to put my mum in her proper place. Congratulations on that, Professor." The dark-haired woman froze as what the voice said registered in her head._

'_My mum'…oh Merlin…_

_Seeing the somewhat apprehensive glance Lupin was sending her out of the corner of her eye, she forced herself to turn around._

_The tall, dark-haired figure standing by the far wall raised a hand in a mock salute._

…_Oh my…_

* * *

**Chapter Nine:**** 'Sorry' won't change what happened**

The last time she had seen him, he had been a striking, tall and slender man of twenty two. Now, almost fourteen years later, she was staring at…a gaunt-faced, tall and too thin man.

_Sweet Merlin_, she thought, _he's a mere shadow of who he was before…_

"Ah, Sirius my boy, I see that you are looking slightly better than the last time I saw you," came the voice of Albus Dumbledore, sounding as cheerful as it always did. The pale, dark-haired man turned his head slightly, so he could look at _both_ the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress.

"Remus is alright as a cook," he mumbled, not even smirking at the mock-glare that his friend sent in his direction.

He turned his attention back to the silent witch. "Looking good, Professor," he said, lightly. "Why, you don't look like you've aged a _day_ since I last saw you." He paused as the elder witch stepped forward, but held his ground. "Then again, why _should_ you look as though you've aged? It's not like _you_ had anything to-"

The sound of her hand hitting his cheek resounded along the hallway. Tonks managed a quick, wary glance at the portrait and once she saw it remain quiet, she turned back to the pair before her, surprised.

The dark-haired man stared at his former Professor. There was a time when she had towered over him and his friends, but now he had to look down, slightly. How things had changed.

"What was that for?" he asked in a steady voice.

McGonagall glared viciously at him. If she was asked, later, why she did it, she wouldn't have been able to answer. It seemed as though natural instinct had taken over, pushing aside any logical behavior that she would _usually_ use.

"What do you _think_ that was for?" she hissed.

"For betraying Lily and James?" The dark-haired man laughed, although it was hollow. "Of course. I should have known. I shouldn't be surprised, should I, given the fact that-" His head turned sharply to the right this time, as he was slapped once more.

Fathomless grey eyes flashed this time. "And what the hell was _that_ for?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you," spat the witch, as she struggled to control herself. Behind her, Lupin glanced sideways at Dumbledore with an almost pleading expression on his face. But the elderly wizard simply shook his head, a sad smile on his face.

"I think you do," said the tall man, coolly. "In case you've forgotten, _Professor_, you're in _my house_. You have no right to just waltz in here and-"

Lupin took a step forward, his arm outstretched, as they watched the Transfigurations Professor slap her former pupil once more. Tonks stood there, staring at her former Professor with something akin to awe and fear.

"You deserve worse. _Much_ worse," said McGonagall, allowing her confused temper to get the best of her. "And you know it."

There was a moment of silence in the hallway, before the dark-haired man bowed his head, staring at the carpeted ground.

"Yeah," he said, quietly, one hand touching the stinging spot on his face where he had been slapped, "yeah, you're right about that." He chuckled, although it had no trace of humor in it. "I deserve so much worse. It _is_ my fault that Harry…has no parents, after all…"

He paused. "It's my fault that the only person who _really_ knew me, who _believed_ me, is dead." He tried to laugh, but it came off as a rather harsh wheeze.

And just like that, McGonagall's stony expression cracked, before disappearing completely.

"Oh," she said, as she took another step towards the man. "My child…" Slipping a hand underneath his chin, she raised his head and her eyes softened when she saw the over bright grey eyes that met her dark ones for a moment. "My dear child, I –" her voice trembled, "-I am so, _so_ very sor-"

"-Sorry?" He roughly pulled his face away from her hand. "You're sorry? That's too bad. It's too bad that 'sorry' won't change what happened, McGonagall." There was a cold expression on his face as he stared at the witch.

"Will 'sorry' just take away everything that Azkaban did to me? Will it change the fact that _I_ was betrayed by those who I thought I could _count on_? Does it?"

"I didn't – we didn't _know_. We didn't _know_ that you and…James…changed, at the last minute, to Pet-"

"-_Don't say his name in my presence_," hissed the dark haired man, icily.

"Fine. We didn't know that you changed the Secret Keeper. As far as we knew, it was _you_. The only _logical_ conclusion-"

"-There are many things that _could have_ happened, McGonagall," interrupted the dark-haired man. "What prevented the lot of you from believing that I was tortured? That Voldemort captured me, and tortured me for _hours_, regarding information on their whereabouts?"

"You wouldn't have betrayed them under torture," said McGonagall, sharply.

The man laughed.

"Oh, so you don't think I would have betrayed them while being tortured, but you _did_ think that I would just willingly betray them?" He shook his head. "Amazing. How bloody amazing. The people I trusted, the people I thought would know for _sure_ that I was innocent, just turned their backs on me."

McGonagall looked stricken.

"All the evidence at the time-"

"-Every criminal case deserves a _trial_ at least, regardless of the evidence. Did I get one? Why, I don't believe I _did._ Did anyone bother to check if I was marked by Voldemort, as all of his followers _are_? No, they didn't. They needed someone to blame, so they picked the nearest, most obvious person to do lay the blame on."

As he spoke, he raised the left sleeve of his robe, revealing too-pale skin and an almost skeletal arm. "Do you see a Dark Mark? _Do you_?"

"N-no…"

He let the sleeve drop, before meeting the woman's dark eyes with his own.

"And you, _Professor_, you of all people should have known that I would _never_ so much as dip a _finger_ into the Dark Arts or anything related to it. You _should have known_ how much I hated it." He gestured around them with his hands. "I went to _you_ when my mum, when my family, tried to make life difficult for me. I went to _you_ before the end of my fifth year, when I decided that I wasn't going to stay with my family any longer. I even _defended_ you with my dear old mum.

You _knew_ me better than to believe that I would be involved in the Dark Arts. You _knew_ that that was one of the reasons why I left my family in the first place, why I allowed myself to be disowned…"

"I – child, I didn't – I couldn't –"

"-You were more of a…mother, or motherly-figure, to me than my _own_ mother was. Do you know how much that _hurt_, Professor?" His shoulders shook as a faraway gleam entered his grey eyes. "To understand that even _you_ believed me capable of betraying Lily and James…that even you believed that I – that I deserved to spend the rest of my life in…Azkaban…?"

As silence descended upon them once more, Lupin took the chance to glance at Dumbledore, pleadingly.

"Albus," he said, softly, "_Please_-"

"-No, my boy. He needs to get it out of his system."

McGonagall reached out towards her former student, trying to keep her emotions in check.

It wasn't Sirius Black who stood before her.

It was a broken, defeated man.

"I _am_ sorry, Sirius…" she said, quietly, not knowing what else she was supposed to say. "If…there's anything-"

"-There's nothing you can do, Professor, to change what happened." He straightened. "I'm rather…tired. Think I'll go upstairs for a while. Remus, do you think we can stop cleaning the place for today? We could start tomorrow…but if you-"

"-No, we can start tomorrow Sirius. Just go…get some rest," said Lupin, warmly. With a nod in his direction, the dark-haired man turned and walked down the corridor.

"Sirius –"

He paused.

"-I…know that I probably shouldn't have said half of what I did," he said, quietly. "You know that I'll forgive you soon, Professor. I _did_ forgive Remus. And I'm halfway through forgiving Dumbledore."

"It's not about-"

"-I need to be alone for a while, alright?" He soon disappeared from sight.

Lupin moved forward, no doubt to follow his friend, but was stopped by the elderly wizard.

"No. Give him some time," he said, softly. "Has he ever done this before?" Lupin sent him a questioning glance. "Has he ever let go of all of that emotion that he has been suppressing?" Lupin was silent for a moment.

"He did, when we faced Peter in the Shrieking Shack," he admitted, "but…since then, no, he hasn't had an outburst like this."

Dumbledore nodded, before moving towards his Deputy, who was staring after the dark-haired, broken man.

"Minerva?"

Her eyes were bright behind her glasses as she turned to him.

"He's right." She blinked furiously. "I failed him."

"Not exactly, Minerva," said Dumbledore, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "But, then again, we _all_ failed him." He paused. "Look on the bright side. _We_ know the truth, he was saved from being given the Dementors' Kiss – thanks to Harry, of course – and we _can_ work on making sure that his name is cleared in the future."

"He hates me."

"He doesn't." He saw the weak yet skeptical glance that she gave him. "Well, alright, he does _seem_ to dislike you at the moment. But, like he said, he just needs some time. Did he not say that he'll forgive you?"

"If it's any consolation, Professor McGonagall, I almost hexed him when I first saw him," said Tonks, "Talk about a bad first impression," she muttered, before glancing back at her Professor. "He forgave me for believing him to be a murderer."

"But you weren't-" Dumbledore rather thought that he heard a choked sob. "-A…mother-figure…"

"Enough of this," said Dumbledore. He smiled at Lupin and Tonks. "I think Minerva and I will head back to Hogwarts. Has Arabella reported anything, about Harry?"

Lupin shook his head, although he did grimace.

"His aunt and uncle are treating him just _fine_," he said, darkly.

"I see. Well then, Remus, Nymphadora-" Blue eyes twinkled at the disgruntled expression on the pink-haired woman's face. "-We will see you at the meeting on Thursday. Hopefully, we'll have a full group by then. Good day."

With nods in their direction, he led his quiet, stricken Deputy away.

* * *

**A/N**

That was actually hard to right. I couldn't very well just let him forgive her right then and there. Then again, I couldn't exactly let him have a grudge against her, especially when he did forgive Lupin and when he seemed okay with Dumbledore.

Sigh. I love Sirius. (Hehe, hope I didn't make it too obvious!)

Well, until next time!

Siriusgirl1


	10. The Order of the Phoenix Meets Once More

**A/N**

Hello, hello! I'm sorry about the delay in updating, but I had an assignment to hand in and…well, let's just say that I don't think I'm going to get a spectacular mark on that one. Oh well. There are always others, I suppose.

Anyway, once again, thanks for everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate your thoughts and comments on this, so…**THANK YOU!**

And now, about this scene; it's all about the Order of the Phoenix – and of course, about Sirius. Again, this takes place before the beginning of The Order of the Phoenix.

That's about it from me here.

On to Chapter ten!

* * *

**Chapter Ten:** **The Order of the Phoenix Meets Once More**

They were all seated in the kitchen, which, according to Remus and Sirius, was the one room that was decent enough for human interaction. Of course, Dumbledore had insisted on taking a look around the rest of the large rooms on the ground floor, and had soon seen a large, _very_ large room that would be perfect – when properly cleaned out, of course – for future meetings.

"Alrigh' enough of this," came a raspy voice, and everyone turned to look at the grizzly-haired old man. "Dumbledore, don't you think it's about time we _started_ this meeting?"

Dumbledore smiled.

"You're quite right, Alastor," he said, nodding. "But I would like to wait until-"

"-Until _what_? In case you haven't noticed, some of us are employed in institutions where people tend to get _suspicious_ when we're not around. Especially in times like these, when we have murderers to catch."

"Exactly," agreed a powerfully built Auror, whom both Mad-Eye _and_ Tonks had said was loyal and willing to fight for the Order and for Dumbledore. "I mean no offence, of course, Dumbledore," he said, nodding at the elderly wizard, "but my team and I could be out there looking for any trace of Black at this very moment…"

Silence fell upon all those gathered in the room.

"And why," said Bill Weasley, slowly, "would you be doing that, Kingsley?" The black Auror smiled grimly.

"He's rumored as being one of the Dark Lord's most faithful – not to mention _powerful_ – allies," he said, "Imagine how it would affect him if we were to capture him."

Mad-Eye Moody shook his head.

"No," he said, slowly. "We wouldn't be able to catch him. The bastard's probably already joined his dear, beloved _master_." A disgusted expression found itself on his face. "I don't know why Fudge refuses to appoint me team leader – no offence, Kingsley – but I would _dearly_ love to hunt the wretched traitor down…"

Lupin was fidgeting in his seat, but no one apart from Arthur, Molly and Bill Weasley, Dumbledore and Tonks saw this.

"No offence taken, Mad-Eye," said Kingsley Shacklebot, pleasantly, "but rest assured that my team and I will not rest until we have Sirius Black in our hands."

"I don't think-"

"-Remus," interrupted Dumbledore, pleasantly, "have you heard anything from Minerva? I fear that she is late, _very_ late…"

The brown haired man took only a moment to compose himself.

"She should be arriving with Severus, Albus. I think-" The door to the kitchen opened at that moment, cutting him off.

Severus Snape strode into the room, only pausing to glance lazily around the room, dark eyes taking in the faces of all those seated at the table, before sneering at Arthur Weasley, and taking the free seat next to him.

"Severus, didn't Minerva come with you?" Snape shook his head at the Headmaster.

"There was some…strange activity in the Forbidden Forest, or so Rolanda said. Minerva went to see what it was about, seeing how Hagrid is currently…away."

A slightly troubled look crossed the elderly Headmaster's face.

"Hmm…"

"You should have gone with her, boy!" growled Mad-Eye Moody. "The Forbidden Forest is no place for a woman to-"

"-I assure you, _Alastor_, that I have every faith in Minerva's magical skill and abilities. She can take care of herself," interrupted Snape, curtly.

"Why you-"

Dumbledore could not help but smile as he caught the slightly uncomfortable expression on the dark-haired man's face.

"Did she threaten to hex you to next week and back if you even _thought_ of accompanying her, Severus?" The flush that spread across the Potions' Master was all the answer that he needed.

The tension in the room dissipated slightly as several people chuckled, while others smiled. Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling once more. "No need to be ashamed, my boy," he said, catching everyone attention. "She does that to me quite often – threatens me, that is. And I must admit that I do whatever I can to _avoid_ such an occurrence; she _is_ a formidable duelist after all."

Tonks was staring wide-eyed at her former Headmaster as the others laughed.

"She threatens _you_?" she asked, surprised. Dumbledore nodded.

"Oh yes, she has quite…innovative threats too," he said, pleasantly. "Why, there was this one time when I had decided that she needed a holiday, and organized a week's…reprieve to France – just for her, of course. When I suggested that she leave, she refused, just as I had expected. But I sent her away saying that Madame Maxime – of Beauxbatons – was having a few problems with her Transfiguration Professor and needed help from an expert…"

His eyes twinkled as he noticed that everyone was paying rapt attention to him. "Of course, it didn't take Minerva long to realize that she was tricked, but luckily, Madame Maxime and I had discussed the possibility of this happening, and she managed to keep Minerva within the school's premises using the wards she put up around the school for its protection…it took her a few days, but Olympe tells me that dear Minerva _did_ start relaxing…"

Molly Weasley had a wide smile on her face.

"And what did she do when she got back to Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore's smile widened.

"Oh, she screamed for the whole school to hear, that she was going to hex me to France and back and then kill me and feed my remains to the Giant Squid." Most of the Order members were wide eyed at this – particularly those who had once been taught by the Transfiguration Professor. "It turns out that Olympe had tried to introduce her to some…er, eligible French men who were her age and who were looking for a…life-partner."

Mad-Eye guffawed, unable to stop himself.

"Oh my," said small-made Hestia Jones, as she tried to stop smiling.

"And how did you get out of that one, Dumbledore?"

The Headmaster smiled benignly.

"Oh, it was quite simple, really. I took a little holiday. A month long holiday. It's a good thing that it was during the end of year holidays too, or I would most _certainly _not be seated here right now."

* * *

He sighed from his seat on the bottom step of the wide staircase, seating so that he could rest his back against the banister. The meeting with the Order was going on in the kitchen downstairs, and here he was, being forced to _hide_ from the Order members.

"Honestly," he muttered, to no one in particular, "why is it that I am always forced to _hide_?" There was a bitter not in the dark-haired man's voice. "If Dumbledore's going to tell them about my _innocence_, shouldn't I be _n that bloody meeting_?"

Sighing, he leaned his head back against the wooden banister, brushing the long black bangs out of his eyes. He hated the fact that he was forced to hide; honestly, was _this_ what his life was meant to be? Hide until-

"-FILTHY MUGGLE-LOVERS! THERE IS NO ONE HERE FOR YOU TO CORRUPT! LEAVE MY HOUSE AT ONCE! GET OUT! YOU ARE ALL TAINTING MY HOUSE!"

He jumped, startled, at the lovely soprano voice of his dear mother's portrait, growling as he hit the back of his head on the banister.

_What the hell_, he thought, as he jumped up and ran, heading towards where he knew the portrait was, _I thought Dumbledore told them not to make so much noise, dammit!_

* * *

"FILTHY MUGGLE-LOVERS! THERE IS NO ONE HERE FOR YOU TO CORRUPT! LEAVE MY HOUSE AT ONCE! GET OUT! YOU ARE ALL TAINTING MY HOUSE!"

Everyone in the kitchen jumped, startled, as they heard the screaming voice from the floor above them. Lupin sighed, ready to stand up and shut the portrait up, but was stopped when Dumbledore raised a hand.

"Oh no, Remus, don't worry about it. That must be Minerva," he said, cheerfully. "Walburga always _did_ have a rather…different way of greeting her."

"Walburga?" Mad-Eye was looking at Dumbledore strangely. "Walburga who?"

"Walburga Black."

There was a moment of silence.

"What in Merlin's name is-?"

"-This _is_ her house, Alastor. Or rather, this _was_ her house."

"WHAT?! What on earth are we doing here then?! Dumbledore, I thought you knew better! This is a _Black_ house?! That woman, Walburga, she's Black's mother!"

"…Sirius Black's mother…?" whispered Hestia Jones, wide eyed. Moody nodded, just as Kingsley sat up straight in his seat.

"Is this true, Dumbledore?"

"Yes, Kingsley, it is."

"Dumbledore, why are we _here_ if-"

"-Let's wait until Minerva gets here. Everything will be explained."

* * *

With a scowl on his face, the dark-haired man unlocked the magically warded door – thankful of the wand that Dumbledore had given back to him – ready to give whoever it was a good piece of his mind, and failing to wonder what would happen if it was someone who did not know the truth about his innocence.

But then again, that was who Sirius Black was; he acted on impulse half the time, and right now, he just wanted to get whoever it was to _stop knocking_ so that he could gleefully Stun the portrait of his mother.

He wrenched the door open.

"Look, I don't _care_ what – oh, Professor…" He stepped aside without another word, allowing her to enter, and quickly closed the doors behind her, putting the wards back up.

He turned to face her. "Don't knock so loudly the next time, alright?" he asked, gruffly, "I don't want to deal with –Professor!"

The dark-haired man hurried over to the stern, dark-haired woman, managing to steady her before she collapsed. She stood in place, held up by him, breathing heavily. He noticed that there were a fair number of cuts and tears on her clothes, and frowned – despite himself. "Professor what-"

"-The…the meeting," gasped the witch, her glasses askew, "I – I'm late…"

"Yeah, I believe you are," agreed Sirius eyes taking in the scratches, "but what happened-" McGonagall pushed herself away from him, stumbling slightly as she did so.

"I should go. Where is it?"

"In the kitchens."

"Oh." With that, she started walking forward shakily. The dark-haired man watched her progress, wordlessly, noting that she was not steady on her feet. He watched as she reached the end of the corridor and turned right.

"YOU!! I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO GET OUT!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS?! OUT! GET OUT! I WILL NOT HAVE YOU CORRUPTING THE PURE-"

"-Oh shut up."

"Professor?"

"_What_?"

"The kitchen's the other way."

"I – oh." She turned and began walking in the direction he had pointed out. When she stumbled again, only managing to hold onto the wall in time, the dark-haired man sighed inwardly, before briskly walking forward.

He stopped in front of the still screaming portrait. _First things first_, he thought, as he raised his wand.

"BLOOD TRAITOR! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING, OPENING THE DOORS OF MY HOUSE TO THESE FILTHY HALF-BREEDS AND MUGGLE LOVERS? HAVE YOU NOT TAINTED THE FAMILY NAME ENOUGH? MUST YOU-"

"Shut up you old hag. _Stupefy_." Once the curtains were drawn over her portrait, he walked towards the heavily-breathing elder witch, watching her warily for a moment, before slinging one of her arms over his shoulders.

She looked at him, startled. "Come on," he muttered, trying to keep his voice cold. "Let's get you to the kitchen. And…get someone to see to those scratches…"

"I can handle myself perfectly well, Si - Black." He smirked before he could stop himself.

"Yeah, I'm sure passing out in the hallway would be a good example of that."

"I was not – I am _not_ going to-"

"-You can't even _stand_ on your own two feet. How do you expect to get to the kitchen, especially when you _don't know_ where it is?"

"I-"

"-Come on, I don't have all day." And so, student and teacher – former, of course – made their way down the corridors, heading towards the kitchens.

An awkward moment or two passed, before the dark-haired man cleared his throat. "You know, this doesn't mean that I've forgiven you or anything…"

"The thought never crossed my mind," mumbled the witch, dryly.

_But maybe there _is_ some hope…?_

* * *

**A/N**

It was _way_ longer than I had thought it would be, when I started typing, but…oh well! Another two-chapter scene, I think!

Hope you all enjoyed it! I'll be putting up part two shortly, once I finished tweaking it here and there.

Till next time,

Siriusgirl1


	11. Order of the Phoenix, Meet Sirius Black

**A/N**

Well, here's the second part to the scene – I don't think this will be the last, however…

* * *

_Recap_

_"-Come on, I don't have all day." And so, student and teacher – former, of course – made their way down the corridors, heading towards the kitchens._

_An awkward moment or two passed, before the dark-haired man cleared his throat. "You know, this doesn't mean that I've forgiven you or anything…"_

_"The thought never crossed my mind," mumbled the witch, dryly._

_But maybe there is some hope…?_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter Eleven**: **Order of the Phoenix, Meet Sirius Black**

"When you say…_Walburga_," said Hestia Jones, apprehensively, "You _are_ just talking about her portrait, right?" Dumbledore nodded.

"Of course my dear," he said, "If she was actually here in the flesh…well, let's just say this wouldn't be our Headquarters."

"That remains to be seen," said Moody, grumpily. "If this does belong to the Blacks – which I don't doubt it does; no wonder the place looks as dull as a graveyard – I don't think many of us would feel safe here."

A rather stately witch who was seated opposite him shook her head.

"I rather think that this would be the perfect place for Headquarters," she said. "Who would ever think that we use _this_ place? And when I say that, I mean a place linked to such a Pureblood fanatical family like the Blacks."

There was a series of murmurs following her statement.

"You do have a point there, Emmeline," said Dedalus Diggle, from his seat. "I-" He was stopped when two things happened, one after the other.

Mad-Eye Moody, whose magical eye had been busy swiveling around in its socket, suddenly stood up with a roar, sending his chair flying back as he pointed his wand at the closed kitchen door.

Before anyone gathered in the kitchen could do or say anything, the door to the kitchen was opened, revealing a dark-haired man and a mussed up older woman, who seemed to be relying her dark-haired companion when it came to staying upright.

"-Oh…" was all that the witch could manage, as she looked up tiredly, only to see a furious Mad-Eye Moody standing with his wand pointed at her.

She blinked. _What?_ She looked again, narrowing her eyes this time.

Oh, no, it wasn't pointed at _her; _it was pointed at her companion.

Her soft exclamation was immediately followed by gasps, squeals and yells, as a mixture of fear and anger erupted in the gathered members of the Order.

Dumbledore closed his eyes, warily.

"Oh dear…" murmured the pink haired Tonks as she too jumped to her feet, although she wasn't pointing her wand at anyone.

"GET AWAY FROM HER! YOU ARE SURROUNDED BY AURORS AND POWERFUL WIZARDS AND WITCHES. DON'T TRY _ANYTHING_ UNLESS YOU WANT TO END UP DEAD!"

The dark-haired man cringed at the volume of the grizzly-haired Auror's voice – it would no doubt wake the portrait of his mother – even as his grey eyes swept the room, taking in familiar and not so familiar faces.

"Why," he said, as he took his time to look in the eye everyone who was standing with their wand pointed at him. "It's _lovely_ to see you all too."

McGonagall groaned inwardly at the tone of her former student's voice, just as she pulled her arm from his shoulders.

"That's right Minerva," said an elderly wizard – Elphias Doge – his wand hand shaking slightly. "Step away from him. We won't let him hurt you any more than he has," he added, as he took in the cuts and scratches that the Transfiguration Professor had on her.

McGonagall blinked.

"I – what?"

"Gentlemen – and ladies – please, lower your wands," started Lupin, as he tried to fight his way towards the front of the group, "You don't understand, it's not like-"

"-He betrayed you and your friends, Remus," said Kingsley, as he stepped forward confidently, never once taking his dark eyes off the 'criminal', "There is no need to pity him."

The dark haired wizard was eyeing the powerful Auror, looking interested.

"I don't think I've seen you before," he said, cocking his head to a side, "Who're you?"

"An Auror."

The 'criminal' rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I _kind of_ figured that," he said, as he gestured towards Mad-Eye.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt," said Kingsley, calmly, "I'm the head of the Auror-team whose sole task is to _capture_ the _traitor _Sirius Black?"

The grey-eyed man looked interested.

"Is that so?" he murmured, before a grin appeared on his face. "The only act of mine that could possibly make me a _traitor_ was when I ran away from home, which in turn led to my being disowned by my family." He feigned a wide-eyed expression of innocence. "Are you working for my mother? Or any _other_ Pureblood-Retrieval-Crew?"

McGonagall sighed.

_Wh__at_ was he _thinking_? Anyone of the people in the room could attack him at _any moment_ and he wasn't _doing anything_ to prevent them from stifling that mad urge!

"_Must_ you antagonize them so?" she murmured, glaring at the dark-haired man, who simply shrugged.

"_I_ antagonize them?" He snorted. "Well, how do you like _that_?" He raised his chin, suddenly causing him to appear…regal, if that was even _possible_. "We have here a bunch of foolish people who have the _audacity_ to point their wands at me when they are standing in the kitchen of _my house_."

Grey eyes flashed dangerously. "I would say that _they_ are the ones antagonizing _me_. Wouldn't you?"

"Shut up boy!" yelled Mad-Eye, causing sparks to break out from the tip of his wand. "You are a wanted criminal! You should be glad that none of us have killed you yet, for all that you have done!"

"All that I have done…" echoed the dark-haired man, as he suddenly stiffened.

"I believe he means the murders," said Hestia Jones, venomously. McGonagall shook her head warily at the witch, mentally pleading with her to stop. "The murders of-" her voice quivered, "-Lily and James."

"Murderer," added Mad-Eye, just as venomously.

And just like that, the proud shoulders slumped, and the chin lowered. Long black bangs covered the once flashing grey eyes, hiding them from the Order members' view.

"Was that really necessary?" asked Lupin, as he viciously pushed past Mundungus Fletcher, who, although he had risen to his feet, was staring at the dark-haired man with his mouth wide open. "There was no need for-"

"Sometimes, Lupin, I _really_ wonder whose side you're on." Lupin paused, turning to stare at Sturgis Podmore. "Of course, being a werewolf, it _must_ be hard to be disloyal to the man who your kind are avid supporters of, is it not?"

A stricken expression quickly crossed the kind, brown-haired man's face.

"Podmore," said Emmeline Vance, disapprovingly.

"Was _that_ really necessary?" questioned Molly Weasley, a frown on her face, from her place in between her husband and eldest son, who hadn't drawn their wands. The three of them, of course, knew of the dark-haired man's innocence.

"He's a werewolf, ladies. And he seems to harbor an urge to _protect_ Black from us. Forgive me if that makes me think he has followed the rest of his kind to kiss the Dark Lord's feet."

"Leave him_ out of this_, you bastard." The barely concealed hatred in the voice was painfully evident. The dark-haired man raised his head, eyes flashing. "You," he snarled, taking a step forward, "are no better than Voldemort and the rest of his followers! How _dare_ you-"

"_Stupefy!_"

The dark-haired man ducked as the jet of red light went flying over the top of his head. A startled exclamation caused him to quickly turn his head; McGonagall had narrowly missed being Stunned.

"Why you-"

McGonagall's eyes widened when she saw Mad-Eye open his mouth, somehow guessing his less-than-honorable intentions before the spell he wanted to cast left his lips.

"Sirius-"

"_Crucio_!"

"NO!" She screamed as Mad-Eye uttered the curse. The dark-haired man, caught off guard and with his head turned, fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself as he writhed under the curse.

"_Incacerous_!" Ropes appeared out of Kingsley's wand, and wrapped around the still-writhing man's form. Lupin shouted, and McGonagall vaguely heard Tonks scream something before the pounding of blood in her ears stopped her from hearing anything else.

All she saw was a striking, dark-haired and grey-eyed boy, looking at her with a cheeky grin on his face.

All she saw was a pale, gaunt-faced dark-haired man with a haunted expression on her face.

All she saw was the rope-bound, writhing figure on the ground.

Then she saw red.

She pointed her wand at the large, magically enlarged table that everyone was gathered on the other side of.

"_Confringo_!" There was a very loud 'bang!' as the table exploded spectacularly, startling everyone gathered in the room – even Snape, who had calmly remained seated – sending splinters of wood flying in every direction and, more importantly, distracting Mad-Eye and causing him to stop the curse that was aimed at the dark-haired man.

She staggered towards the quivering, heavily-breathing figure, her dark eyes wide. "_Finite_," she muttered, causing the magically-created ropes to disappear, before she dropped to her knees beside the dark-haired man, her hands shaking as she reached out to him.

"MINERVA, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE-"

"_Enough."_ No one could deny the power that radiated from the voice, as its owner stood straight and tall, clear blue eyes flashing.

"What in the – _no_, Dumbledore, we've finally got him-"

"Alastor Moody_, you will stop this foolish behavior immediately_," said Dumbledore, his voice no more than a hiss. He stared his friend in the eye for a second or two, before turning to the startled wizards and witches in the room. "And you," he said, his voice still quiet, "will _lower your wands_."

In any other circumstance, it would have been amusing to see everyone – well, those who had their wands drawn – do that the elderly wizard said, without hesitating.

No one said anything as the elderly wizard stared at the rubble at his feet for a moment, breaking eye-contact with it only when the magically-enlarged table was in one piece again. "Minerva…?"

The dark-haired witch looked up at him, a distraught expression on her face as she held her former student in her arms.

"He-" she cleared her throat, "-he's in shock," she whispered, tightening her hold on the vulnerable man as he shook, moaning quietly.

Dumbledore moved quickly, so that he was kneeling down on the other side of the trembling young man. He placed a hand on his forehead and quickly checked his pulse before nodding.

"Remus." The brown haired man was at his side in a moment, eyes flashing dangerously as he passed Mad-Eye and Kingsley. "Would you please take Sirius outside? Perhaps just to the living-room, for I will need him here once he has…recovered somewhat." He sent the brown haired man a pleading look when he opened his mouth to argue with him. "Please, I need _him_ to speak with everyone when I'm done with them."

Lupin nodded curtly as he Levitated his friend out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him and leaving no one in doubt of his anger.

Dumbledore stood up gracefully, not noticing that his Deputy staggered as she did the same. "And as for the rest of-" With quick reflexes, he caught the dark-haired witch as she swayed, and a moment later, McGonagall found herself seated on one of the unoccupied chairs as the cuts she had on her were magically sealed and healed.

"…Is she alright?" questioned Bill Weasley, breaking the silence as he stared at his former Head of House. "She looks pale…maybe she'll need a potion or something-?"

"There will be no need for that," cut in Snape, from where he had been kneeling and healing his colleague. "She is just tired. And distraught, for which, I suppose, I must congratulate two oh-so-subtle Aurors," he added, wryly.

"Minerva," said Dumbledore, before Mad-Eye or Kingsley could say anything. "What happened?" The witch glanced up at him and blinked a few times, before she cleared her throat once more.

"The Forest," she explained, her voice steady. "Rolanda said-"

"-Yes, we know that," said Dumbledore.

"Isn't it obvious that the bastard Black-"

"-As much as it kills me to say this," cut in Snape, "_do_ stop insulting Black for a moment and let Minerva tell us what happened _before_ you jump to conclusions." He shook his head. "How the Ministry selects their Aurors I _really_ don't know."

Of course, he was immune to the glares he was receiving from the Aurors in the room, although he _did_ notice the smile on the pink-haired Auror's face.

"Did you know that the Forbidden Forest houses Acromantulas? Well, they do. And you don't seem too surprised about that…you knew didn't you?! Merlin, Albus, I _really_ am going to hex-" She stopped, composing herself. "Anyway, one party of Acromantulas apparently invaded another party's territory…and there was an ongoing…war of sorts which I, oh so smartly, walked into the midst of."

She glared at Mad-Eye. "I was injured while fighting a few of them off and while running as fast as I could _away_ from the creatures. And Sirius let me in when I knocked, and, seeing that I could barely _stand_, helped me here, before you decided to hex him."

"Sirius? Minerva," said Kingsley, sounding confused, "That man is-"

"-Is there something you'd like to tell us, Dumbledore?" questioned Mad-Eye, as he stared shrewdly at his friend.

There was a moment's silence, before Dumbledore nodded, settling back down in his – repaired – seat.

"Yes," he said, his voice calm. "Sit down, all of you. For this _will_ take some time. Severus, did you bring-?" The Potions' Master nodded as he took something out of his pocket and enlarged it to its proper size. It was Dumbledore's Pensieve.

The elderly wizard nodded, looking pleased. "Good." He enlarged the Pensieve even more. "I want everyone to gather around. We can't all take turns in going in, so we'll have to do it like this, I'm afraid. I was hoping this could be done with all of us dealing like the civilized people we are...but apparently, my faith in you was wrongly invested."

He started putting his memories into the Pensieve, via his wand. "Allow me to tell you the _truth_, concerning that Halloween night, fourteen years ago."

* * *

**A/N**

Okay, that was long…_and_ I guess that a part-three will be following this! Sigh. I _really_ should learn to cut short these scenes. Oh well.

Hope you enjoyed this as well.

Till next time,

Siriusgirl1


	12. Memories of a Murderer

**A/N**

The last part of this latest scene; be warned, it's quite long.

* * *

_Recap_

_The elderly wizard nodded, looking pleased. "Good." He enlarged the Pensieve even more. "I want everyone to gather around. We can't all take turns in going in, so we'll have to do it like this, I'm afraid. I was hoping this could be done with all of us dealing like the civilized people we are...but apparently, my faith in you was wrongly invested."_

_He started putting his memories into the Pensieve, via his wand. "Allow me to tell you the truth, concerning that Halloween night, fourteen years ago."_

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**: **Memories of a Murderer**

Remus paused with one hand on the kitchen door and turned to stare at his friend, who was leaning slightly against him. His face was pale – paler than it usually was – and there was no denying the wariness in his eyes.

"You don't have to do this," he said, earnestly, once more. "I _can_ go and tell Dumbledore that you're not feeling well, and-"

"-No," interrupted Sirius, softly. "No, I can't do that. I _want_ to face them. I _have_ to." He managed a smile, although it looked more like a grimace. "Thanks Moony. It…it means a lot, knowing that…_you_ at least, are still willing to…help me…"

Lupin placed a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder as he smiled at him. "Let's just go and get this over with."

The silence that greeted him when he entered the room was slightly unnerving, but Sirius found that he didn't care. Remus stood beside his friend, glaring around the room – and noticing the guilty expressions on most of the faces.

The silence soon turned awkward.

"I hope you are feeling slightly better, Sirius, my boy…?"

"Of course, Pr – Dumbledore," said the dark-haired man, "It's not like I've never experienced the Cruciatus curse before."

He looked haughtily at everyone in the room. "Besides, being Voldemort's _faithful spy_ has given me a tolerance for certain spells," he added, sarcastically.

The dark-haired man's attention was now fixed on the witch who was slumped in her seat, with her back to him. He unconsciously wondered if she was alright, before looking at Dumbledore again.

"-Can you ever forgive us?" Grey eyes met the brown ones of plump Hestia Jones, and a moment's silence passed, as Emmeline Vance nodded, a sorrowful expression on her face.

"What does it matter?" he asked, at last. "It's not like my forgiveness is going to change anything…" The witches looked rather downcast at his words.

A half-smile appeared on his lips. "Looking as good as ever though, Em, 'Tia. You don't seem to have aged a _day_."

Tonks suppressed the urge to laugh as she caught the flush on Hestia Jones' face, even as Remus rolled his eyes. Emmeline, on the other hand, just shook her head.

"How can we still trust him?" Mad-Eye's question dampened the mood once more.

"You know, I _am_ in the room too," said Sirius, coolly, seeing that the question had been addressed to Dumbledore. "_Do_ feel free to pose any questions you have _about_ me _to_ me."

Mad-Eye glared at him.

"Fine then," he said, "How do we know that you haven't…bewitched Dumbledore, or better yet, put him under the Imperius Curse to make us believe you?"

There was a pause as Sirius and everyone else – except Dumbledore himself – gaped at Mad-Eye.

"You really are a little lacking up here aren't you?" questioned Sirius, tapping his head lightly. "Do you honestly think that _anyone_ could do that to Dumbledore? I may be 'Voldemort's right-hand man'," he paused, rolling his eyes at the winces he received for using the Dark Lord's name, "but even such a man would not be able to boast of being capable of _that_."

Dumbledore chuckled.

"Sirius, you are making me blush," he said, humbly, eyes twinkling as usual.

"The Ministry's been chasing an _innocent_ man all this time?" questioned Kingsley, looking slightly ashamed as he looked at Sirius. "I…I don't quite know what to say…"

Sirius snorted.

"Yeah, don't worry about that. I'm sure that the _lot_ of you are bursting to apologize. If only apologies would change the – Snape…"

The pale-faced man sneered at him.

"Black," he spat.

"What crawled up your ass and died?"

"-It would do you good to-"

"I still don't believe him. He's somehow managed to trick us. He _is_ a murderer after all."

"He is no more a murderer than you and I," snapped McGonagall, as she sat up straight in her seat. "No, I take that back. Out of all of us here, _you_ are the only person who earns the title of a 'murderer' for the lives that _you_ have taken during your long years as an Auror."

"They were Death Eaters-"

"-And yet, they were still murders. But we don't call you a murderer. And you have no right to label an _innocent man_ a murderer."

"Oh, is that so? Well, you didn't seem to think he was innocent at the time either, Minerva, if I can remember correctly. _You_ believed him to be guilty of betraying Lily and James Potter too!"

McGonagall's shoulders slumped slightly at the Auror's words. "You've nothing to say for that, eh? Because it's true! So stop being a hypocrite, Minerva."

A low growl escaped Sirius' throat, causing Remus to look at him, startled.

"There was nothing else that she could do," snapped the dark-haired man. "She wasn't in a position of power to change anything, unlike you and certain others." He sneered at the old wizard. "Don't blame _others_ to try and cover up your inefficiency at your task, Mad-Eye."

Mad-Eye opened his mouth once more. "You know what? I don't want to hear it, Mad-Eye. I don't want to hear what I _know_ you're going to say." He roughly pushed past Remus and headed towards the Pensieve. "How about I _show_ you then, huh?"

Placing his wand against the side of his head – appearing paler than he was before – he pulled out various silvery strands of memories from his head, before dipping them into the Pensieve. "Go on, all of you"

* * *

"_Hey, don't worry about it. I'll be checking up on Peter next week. He should be fine. You'll be fine__. My adorable godson will be fine," said a striking male, a smile on his face. _

"_It's not that…well, not _just_ that," murmured the pretty red-head. "For this bluff to work, they must think that you're Secret Keeper." She paused. "What if they _do_ come after you?"_

"_Lils, that's kind of the whole _point-_"_

"_-Yes, but-" her voice broke off. "-We lost Gideon and Fabian, and…and they were powerful enough to protect themselves…you…you're just _one_ person…what if-"_

"_-Lily, look at me." Green eyes met grey. "I'll be fine." _

"_But - oh, alright! Be the over-confident prat you've always been!" She was smiling. He chuckled as she threw her arms around him. "But promise me you'll be careful."_

"_I promise you that-" _

"_-Oi, oi, as much as I love you, and promised to share everything I own with you, I'm going to have to put my foot down on the wife," teased a messy-haired, bespectacled man, as the red-head glowered at him._

"_You are _so _sleeping on the couch tonight for that comment." The dark-haired man chuckled at the expression on his best-friend's face, stopping when he suddenly found himself in a fierce embrace. _

"_Ooof – Prongs, mate, can't – breathe-"_

"_-If you don't get through this whole thing in one piece, I will hunt you down and kill you again myself, alright?" _

"_You're – kinda – killing me already – leggo – can't – breathe –"_

* * *

The scene shifted, to show a small, dark cottage. 

"_Peter?" He knocked on the door – the special coded knock – but received no answer. "Oookay, little guy, I know you're in there. It's me. You first met me at lunch on –" A particularly strong gust of wind pushed the supposedly _heavily locked_ door open._

_Suddenly tens__e, he walked inside with his wand drawn and moved quietly._

_A p__ainstakingly thorough search later did not reveal the cottage's usual occupant. "Merlin, Voldemort couldn't have-" he blanched, "-captured…" he murmured, feeling slightly dizzy. _

_Captured, because of him…_

_He frowned__. Something wasn't right, though. If he _had_ been caught unaware wouldn't there be – "There aren't any signs of a struggle…" he murmured. "But what does _that _mean --- unless…" His face paled in the light that was emitted from the tip of his wand. "No…could it possibly - _him_?" Grey eyes widened in fright. "Merlin, no!" _

_H__e turned and fled. _

* * *

The scene changed once more; this time revealing a quaint, two-storey house…that was partially on fire. 

"_James! Lily! Where are you?!" he yelled out__. There was nothing in the corridor that led to the front door, so he continued, running as fast as he could, not thinking to draw his wand. _

"_Oh god, James!__ Please, oh Merlin – Lily!! H-Harry!!" There was a desperate gleam in his eyes as he moved forward, when he suddenly tripped over something. Quickly regaining his balance, he whirled around, fear pounding in his ears._

_He froze when he saw what he had almost tripped over. _

_For a long moment, he simply stood where he was, ignoring the heat of the slowly-spreading fires. He blinked, and soon found himself on his knees beside the…still figure of__- _

"_Jamesie, this isn't f-funny…" he whispered, voice breaking as he knew, he _knew_ that this was no joke. "J-James…Pr-Prongs…please – please –" The hazel eyes were open, and it looked as though he was just…lying down, thinking._

_Grey eyes glistened. "NOOOOOO!!!" It was a pained, heart-breaking howl that escaped his lips as he buried his face on the unmoving chest, clutching at the blue shirt. "N-no…it – t-this wasn't …I – Peter – Merlin, I'm sorry…I'm _so_ sorry -" _

_H__e jumped up suddenly and hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time and made his way to the little nursery. _

_A strangled sob escaped his throat when he saw her lying on the ground, vibrant green eyes wide open. There were dried tear stains on her cheeks, and he soon found tears running down his cheeks as well. _

"_What have I done…? Oh, Lily…what have I – I –" The sudden loud wail startled him and he gasped when he located the its source. "But…how-? You - oh, Harry!" He moved swiftly, picking the child up and holding him tightly against his chest. He might have been breaking every bone in the toddler's body._

_Pulling back slightly, he stared at his godson. "You really _are_…a-alive…" He frowned, as he freed a hand to brush at the mark on his forehead. "You're bleeding…" He used one end of his shirt sleeve to wipe away the blood, causing the toddle to wince. "What's this…a…lightning bolt…?" _

_He jumped, startled when he heard the heavy footsteps moments before a hulking figure entered the room._

"_Hagrid…" He watched the giant sob earnestly, only looking away when he felt a small hand on his cheek, and met the tearful green eyes of his godson. _

* * *

And just like that, the scene changed again, for the last time. It showed a…street, this time. It was a familiar Muggle street, with two figures standing underneath the light being emitted from two streetlights. 

"_You little bastard," snarled the dark-haired man, his shoulders trembling as he advanced on his shorter, lighter haired companion. _

"_S-Sirius, p-please-"_

"_-What did Voldemort promise you, you little rat? What did he say to get you on his side?" _

"_I – don't – Sirius, I –"_

"_-How _proud_ you must have been when I – when I suggested the bluff. No wonder you didn't make a fuss about it, saying you were too weak and whatnot – you were just eager to pass on the information to Voldemort!" _

_The plump man was shaking openly, the fear evident in his watery eyes. _

"_I had no – choice, Sirius, he – he suddenly appeared and – and demanded –"_

"_-DON'T LIE TO ME, YOU COWARD!" yelled the dark-haired man, eyes flashing dangerously. "You were the spy. You were the traitor. You were the backstabber we should have been aware of – not Remus." _

"_I-"_

"_-But I don't understand, Peter. Why? _Why? _What did we ever do to you? I thought we – we were friends…" his voice broke. "J-James…wasn't he…weren't we all…friends?" _

"_He's powerful, Sirius!" cried out the short man, now staring right into the grey eyes. "He promised me so much…for loyalty…he promised to protect me –"_

"_-PROTECT YOU FROM WHAT?! WE WERE THE ONES WHO PROTECTED YOU, RIGHT FROM THE MOMENT WE BEFRIENDED YOU!" The yelling had caught the attention of quite a few of the neighborhood Muggles, as lights were switched on in nearby houses. _

"_But you couldn't protect me from him!" screamed the pasty-faced man. "You wouldn't have been able to protect me from him!"_

_His 'friend' blinked. _

"_Peter…all you had to do was tell us – approach us. You _know_ we would have done anything-"_

"_-No, I didn't know that! You were all powerful as it was, you wouldn't have wanted to protect an insignificant thing like me! I was just looking out for my best interests and-"_

"_IS THIS WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT?! JEALOUSY?! YOU BETRAYED JAMES AND LILY TO THEIR DEATHS OUT OF PETTY JEALOUSY?!" His wand was out now, and emitting sparks from its tip as the dark-haired man lost his temper. There was a wild, dangerous light in his grey eyes, and it frightened the traitor. "I swear, I swear on all that I hold dear, I am going to _kill_ you, Peter Pettigrew!" _

_There were tears in his eyes as he said it, and, for a moment, the shifty-eyed man wondered if those tears were for him, for the fact that he had said that he would kill him. _

_But he soon snapped out of his daze when he saw the Muggles gathering around. An idea suddenly came into his head, and his eyes gleamed. _

"_YOU! YOU BETRAYED THEM! HOW COULD YOU?! HOW COULD YOU BETRAY LILY AND JAMES?!" The dark-haired man stared at him, taken aback. _

"_What? What are you talking about-" he suddenly noticed the people gathered around and an uneasy feeling entered his gut. "Shut up, Peter, I-"_

_He watched his supposed friend's lips move, and the next thing he knew, there was an explosion. He was thrown back a few feet, but was on his feet almost at once, blinking against the putrid smoke. A quick charm cleared it from his sight._

_He paled when he saw the bodies littered on the ground; the _unmoving_ bodies. Others – those still alive – stared at him in fright. Spinning around quickly, he glanced at the spot his companion had been standing in, and his eyes widened when he saw the pale digit lying on the ground. _

_He stood, staring at the lifeless finger for a long time, not evening hearing or noticing the loud 'pops' as Ministry officials Apparated around him. He did not hear the panicked cries from the Muggles, or the curses that the Aurors were muttering as they surrounded him. _

_It had struck him that their timid little Peter…had not been so foolish and empty-headed after all. A pair of rough hands grabbed him from behind, and he soon felt ropes binding his wrists together behind his back. _

"_Bastard," growled a tall, frightening grizzly-haired man, as he clenched his shoulder painfully, not noticing the still wet tear tracks on his captives face. "Bastard. Murderer. You ought to rot in prison. I will _see_ to it that you rot in prison, if it's the last thing that I do. Azkaban will do nicely for you."_

_The wild gleam returned to the man's eyes. As he was led away, all he could do was throw his head back and laugh at the irony of the situation. All he could do was laugh as grief, guilt, anger and fear fought to gain dominance in his heart._

* * *

The images started to blur until they were out of focus, before disappearing completely. The silence in the kitchen was thick, brimming with emotion. 

It was Molly Weasley who seemed to break the trance with a loud sniff. All at once, everyone turned their attention away from the Pensieve.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Remus blinked furiously, trying to clear his eyes of the…tears that the obviously painful memories conjured up. Slowly, he turned to his friend and his heart went out to him.

The once cocky, proud young man was taking shaky steps backward, his face a worrying shade of white. His grey eyes glistened too, but he didn't seem to notice. No, he seemed to be in a faraway place.

Before he could reach out to him, a chair was pushed back forcefully, its legs scraping against the floor in a cringe-worthy sound.

The dark-haired, elderly witch strode forward briskly, not appearing the slightest bit wary as she had been before.

He watched as she reached Sirius, stopping only when she was standing before him. She said something softly to him – something he couldn't catch – and when she received no reply, she gingerly touched his arm.

The next thing she knew, her arms were full of a hysterically crying man, as he clung to her desperately. She only faltered for a moment, before wrapping her arms around him, stroking his hair in as comforting a manner as she could.

She turned to glance helplessly at her superior, who had a sorrowful expression on his face as he watched the still clearly grieving and guilty man.

_He needs to let go of the guilt…he _must_…it wasn't his fault…_

Soon, Lupin was standing with the two figures, placing a hand on his friend's trembling shoulder and squeezing it lightly. Tonks was the next to join them, rubbing her mother's only favorite relative's – _her_ only favorite Black relative – back.

McGonagall was able to rest her chin on her former student's head, as he was slouched while he cried. She continued to stroke his hair, murmuring softly as she – as they all – held him.

"Let it out, Sirius, let it out…" She didn't realize that she herself was crying until her vision became blurred.

* * *

**A/N**

Alright. It's over. It's done. I won't have to write about this scene anymore. And now I've gone and depressed myself, by remembering how unfair it was that people had to believe that Sirius was guilty and how he had to _die_ for his name to be cleared.

Urgh.

I don't think I'll make any future chapters as long as this – I just wanted to finish it without going into a fourth chapter.

Hope you all enjoyed that. I'm going to go and…have some chocolate, I think.

Well, till next time,

Siriusgirl1


	13. Dreamless Potion and a Package

**A/N**

A new scene this time, again, set before the beginning of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. This will be a two-part scene – and I intend on sticking to that! Heh.

Well…on with it, I suppose. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**: **Dreamless Potion and a Package**

"Thank you, Poppy," said the dark-haired witch, as she took the potion from the school nurse, "You are a lifesaver."

"Minerva," started the nurse. "This is the fourth time that you have-"

"-Yes, Poppy, I am aware of that. I assure you, however, that I _will_ replenish your stocks once they-"

"-I couldn't care less about my stock of Dreamless Sleep potion Minerva McGonagall, and you know it." There was a stern note in the Nurse's voice.

"Oh."

Madame Pomfrey crossed her arms over her chest as she stared at her friend.

"Minerva, _please_ tell me what is going on. Why do you need so many large doses of the Potion?"

"To stop myself from dreaming at night, Poppy-"

"-I know that!" snapped Madame Pomfrey. "_W__hy_ do you want to stop yourself from dreaming?"

There was a slight pause.

"Poppy, you of all people should know the…terrible dreams that I am prone to having. Did I not come to you after that _first_ terrible dream…what was it…thirty eight years ago…?"

"Thirty seven years ago, actually," said Madame Pomfrey, quietly. "It was exactly one year after…_he_ returned to Hogwarts, changed almost beyond recognition, seeking the…Defense Against the Dark Arts post…" Her friend grimaced at the mention of the event, but nodded.

"Yes, that's it. For it was in the year that followed his…reappearance that Wizarding Britain discovered the existence of the newest Dark Lord."

Madame Pomfrey suddenly desired the move on with the conversation.

"But that was ages ago, Minerva. There was a time when you did not _need_ the potion…why have you started using it again?"

There was a sigh.

"I have been having dreadful dreams again."

"I figured _that much_, Minerva. What are they about?"

"Being a teacher, Poppy, is perhaps one of the _worst_ and most demanding professions that exist…" Madame Pomfrey furrowed her brows.

"…Yes, it…can get demanding, I suppose," she said. "But somehow, I doubt if your dreams are related to school work…"

The dark-haired witch smiled humorlessly.

"No, they are not related to schoolwork," she said. "My _students_, Poppy…my students…"

"What about your students?"

"How many of them have I watched die? How many have I read about in the front page of the _Prophet_, concerning either the revelation that they were loyal supporters of the Dark Lord, or concerning their…gruesome deaths at the hand of those who support the Dark Lord?"

And just like that, Madame Pomfrey knew what it was that bothered her friend.

"Who is it this time, Minerva? The dreams…the nightmares, who do you see in them?"

McGonagall swallowed.

"Edgar and Sarah Bones…and the little ones, their children, Michael, Louise and Timothy…" She was referring to Amelia Bones' brother and his family, who had been murdered in the…first war, shortly before the 'fall' of the Dark Lord.

Madame Pomfrey shuddered; she remembered Edgar Bones. Why, he used to spend most of his days at Hogwarts in the Hospital Wing due to Quidditch-related injuries! And their children…_Merlin_, they had been too young to be…killed. "It's not just them. I see others." The dark-haired witch swallowed. "…Fabian and Gideon…Frank and Alice…Lily and James...and –" She stopped, shaking her head even as she clutched the bottle of Dreamless Sleep potion tighter.

"Minerva, it was a dreadful thing – I will admit that, but there is _nothing_ that can be done about it now. We cannot change the past, and even if we could, it would be unwise to do so," she said, instead. "All we can do _now_ is look to the future. The Ministry will see the error in their ways, and believe _me_ they will be groveling at his feet asking for forgiveness for branding him a murderer…"

There was a small, tight smile on the Deputy Headmistress' face.

"And I do not think he will ever _accept_ their forgiveness," she said. "It's not like he has accepted _our_ forgiveness…"

"Maybe he doesn't know that you _want _him to forgive you?"

Her friend sent her an incredulous look. "Think about it, Minerva. Within the last few days, he has had so many people asking if he could _ever _forgive them their ignorance. How is he supposed to know that these people are being _genuine_? For all _he _knows, they are only asking for forgiveness so that they need not feel guilty…"

"I – but…we-" Madame Pomfrey shook her head.

"Just think about it, Minerva. That's all I'm saying…"

"…Fine, but still, he ought to know that we, _at least_, mean it when we ask for his forgiveness…"

"Maybe he doesn't know that," said Madame Pomfrey, simply. "Besides, you avoiding Headquarters probably does not help your case any…"

McGonagall sent her a dark look. "Minerva, apart from the Order meetings, you have spectacularly managed to come up with excuses to _not_ go to headquarters. How many times have you forced Albus to send others in your place, when it came to playing messenger and the like?"

"That – that is – that was only because I had work to do! Yes, we may be on the brink of war again, but I _am_ a teacher and I _do_ have marking and-"

"-So does Severus, but…do you see him complaining or giving excuses?"

"Poppy, if you are suggesting –"

"-I am suggesting nothing, Minerva." The Transfiguration Professor stared at her for a moment, before shaking her head.

"Thank you, again, for the potion, Poppy. You let me know when your stocks run low and I will replenish them, alright?"

With a curt nod at the nurse, McGonagall stalked out of the hospital wing, leaving a helpless colleague behind her.

Of course, Madame Pomfrey did not stay that way for long.

_The Headmaster_ _will need to be told. I do not want any__one of us suffering from depression again. It has happened too often._

* * *

**Later in the day:**

By the time evening rolled around, Minerva McGonagall was still seated in her office, staring down at the almost blank sheet of parchment on which she had been trying to write for…well, quite some time now.

But try as she might, her mind _refused_ to focus on the possible changes to the Sixth Year Transfiguration syllabus. It seemed more interested in recalling her earlier conversation with Madame Pomfrey.

_Am I?_ she wondered, _Am I really…making up excuses, so that I can avoid Grimmauld Place…?_

She snorted. Of course she wasn't; what she had told Poppy was correct. She _did_ have other things to do as well, apart from being a member of the Order.

_Right?_

"The way you work, it almost seems as though we are in the midst of a very busy first term of school." She jumped as she heard the sneering voice.

"Is there something you need, Severus?" The Potions' master glided into the office and, a moment later, was seated on one of the chairs before her.

"You _are_ aware that you have missed two meals, are you not?"

"I assure you that I am a grown woman and thus, can take care of myself quite well. But thank you for your concern."

"Concern? Hardly. I just did not think that it would benefit the Order should one of its agents drop dead of starvation."

McGonagall sighed.

"What is it that you need, Severus?" she asked, as she rubbed the back of her sore neck.

"The Headmaster gave me an errand, concerning headquarters."

"I see."

"He wants me to deliver a package to Lupin."

"…Oh."

"The funny thing _is_, that I – for god's sake woman, stop staring in false fascination at that blank roll of parchment."

"I was _not_ staring at it in false fascination," said McGonagall, indignantly. Snape smirked.

"As I was saying, the Headmaster wants me to deliver a package to Lupin," he drawled, dark eyes watching his colleague intently. "It might not come across as a surprise to you that I do not _want_ to go to headquarters and deliver this package to Lupin."

"Now why would I _not_ be surprised? I thought you and Remus were _inseparable_," muttered McGonagall, sarcastically.

Snape ignored her.

"I would like _you_ to deliver the package."

There was a pause.

"No. Definitely not. I have work to do – as you can _see_ – so I cannot waste my time."

"Oh yes, _work_. Tell me, Minerva, is that _all_ that you have achieved after spending a whole day in here? A mere _title_?"

"I don't see how –"

"-I thought Gryffindors were supposed to brave, not _cowards_." Dark eyes narrowed.

"_Excuse_ me?"

"You are certainly not acting in a Gryffindor-like manner, Minerva. And you are even the Head of the House – _shame_ on you."

"I – I _beg your pardon_?"

"Cowardice – in your lovely terms – is a Slytherin trait, is it not? Strange, that you would display such a Slytherin trait in-"

"-Enough! How dare you? I am no coward, Severus Snape, and you know it!"

"Do I?" His dark eyes glinted. "If you are no coward, why are you avoiding Grimmauld Place?"

"I am not avoiding-"

"-I can understand the desire to avoid anything even remotely related to that…fool of a Black, but I never thought that _you_ would be the one doing that."

"I am _not_-" Snape stood up abruptly, cutting the dark-haired witch off. He placed a fairly large package on the table after a moment.

"It is to be given to Lupin," was all he said, before turning on his heel and walking away. He paused by the door. "Oh, and Minerva?" She looked at him. "Getting over _this_ particular…obstacle will help you concentrate better on changes to the Sixth Year Transfiguration syllabus."

With that, he was gone.

_Oh Minerva, _she thought, glumly, as she stared at the neatly wrapped package on the desk, _he's right. Poppy was right. You have been acting like a coward. A Gryffindor, acting like a coward! That is just unheard of!_

She forcefully put down thoughts of a certain Gryffindor student of hers, who had in the end, turned into a coward when he betrayed his friends to their deaths.

_Damn that Severus; he is too smart for his own good!_

* * *

**A/N**

Hehe, just a shorter scene this time – and not as…emotional as the last scene. Again, it will be carried over into a second chapter, but I can assure you that that will be it; not continuing on to a _third_ chapter.

I like writing parts with Severus in it – I just realized that.

Well, that's it for now! I don't know if I'll be able to update until next weekend, because I have two assignments due in next week and…well, I _would_ like to do them properly, unlike my last one, which I did at the very-last-minute and thus, am not happy with at all.

Hope that's alright with everyone!

Well…till next time,

Siriusgirl1


	14. Tales and Brownies

**A/N**

Okay, okay…I know, I _did_ say that I wouldn't be updating until next weekend…but wouldn't you know it, I just couldn't concentrate on what I was _supposed _to do – assignments – and instead had my mind full of…future ideas for this story?

Sigh. Bad timing on my imagination's part, I suppose!

Well, anyway, here's the second part to the previous scene!

* * *

_Recap_:

Oh Minerva_, she thought, glumly, as she stared at the neatly wrapped package on the desk, _he's right. Poppy was right. You have been acting like a coward. A Gryffindor, acting like a coward! That is just unheard of!

_She forcefully put down thoughts of a certain Gryffindor student of hers, who had in the end, turned into a coward when he betrayed his friends to their deaths._

Damn that Severus; he is too smart for his own good!

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**: **Tales and Brownies**

Molly stopped as she and McGonagall entered the well-lit and rather cheery living-room from where the loud noises seemed to be coming from.

They were immediately greeted by the laughter of – as a quick glance revealed – the Weasley children and Tonks.

"You better believe it, boys – oh, and girls – because it _happened_ alright!" Surprised at the almost-cheery voice, McGonagall stared straight ahead and saw that it was Sirius, who was seated on one of the green-cushioned armchairs.

And looking better than the day she had seen him.

"You're serious?"

Lupin, who was sharing the couch with Bill and Tonks, groaned out loud.

"Oh no, Ron-"

"-Of _course_ I'm Sirius. Who in Merlin's name did you think I was?" Even Arthur Weasley, who was seated on another one of the armchairs, was forced to shake his head in amusement.

"Don't worry about it Ron," said Remus, even though he was smiling, "We've had to put up with this torturous, _lacking_ sense of humor for seven _long_ years."

"I _resent_ that!" said Sirius. He huffed. "You guys would have been lost without my abilities-"

"-What abilities? The ones that had you serving detention every other day?"

"_No_, I was talking about my abilities that-"

"-Made you the most hated person in Filch' life?"

"Excuse me, but I _do_ believe that _that_ was just an act. My dear buddy Argus was actually an admirer of my work – but he _did_ have a reputation to uphold, you know, so he had to make it _seem_ as though he hated me."

"Oh, I see. It was all an act…"

"Yup."

"I don't know what you're grinning about, Sirius. I for one would be _horrified _if _I_ knew that Argus Filch was a secret admirer of mine…"

Ginny had practically shoved her fist in her mouth to prevent herself from laughing, although none of the others in the living room seemed to care about proper behavior, as they roared in laughter at the expression on Sirius' face.

Tonks was slumped down in the couch.

"I – c-can't – breathe –" she gasped, eyes watering. "P-please stop -!"

"Yeah, Remus, _stop_," agreed Sirius. "I don't want you killing off the few decent family members I have…"

Remus rolled his eyes at his friend, and Molly took the opportunity to make their presence known.

"Look who came to visit," she said, as she smiled brightly in the elder witch's direction – earning her a dark glare from said witch as all heads turned in her direction.

_Is it just me, or did the atmosphere just…get slightly dampened?_

"Good evening," she said, nodding her head in greeting to everyone. "I…trust everyone is well?" _Oh, nice Minerva, _very_ nice…can you get any more _boring

"We are all very well, milady, but what of-"

"-yourself? 'Tis our sincerest wish that ye are-"

"-in good spirits. We would have ye know, that nothing-"

"-warms our heart more than seeing ye-"

"-happy and in good health!"

Molly Weasley shot her sons a dark glare as they stood from their places on the carpeted floor – beside the fireplace – and half-bowed in the dark-haired witch's direction.

Tonks, Billy, Ron, Remus, Ginny and Arthur were doing their _very best_ to avoid laughing.

"Very good, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley; it seems as though you have quite a good grasp of 17th century verbal communication," said McGonagall, as Sirius snickered. "Something wrong, Mr. Black?"

Sirius snickered again.

"You were the one who started it," he explained. "They were just following your example."

McGonagall raised her eyebrows.

"So if I were to throw myself off a cliff, they would follow my example and do the same?"

Fred and George looked horrified at the thought.

"But, Professor, of _course_!" exclaimed Fred.

"Yeah, of course we'd throw ourselves off the cliff as well – immediately after you, if it is possible," added George.

"_Oh?_"

"Of course, Professor. _Someone's _got to catch you after all. We wouldn't want our _dear_ Head of House to end up with her guts splattered all over some uninhabited land now, would we?" asked Sirius, smirking when he saw the glare the dark-haired woman sent him.

Shaking her head, she turned her attention to Remus, who was looking amused.

"Albus wanted me to give this to you," she said, walking over towards him with the package held out.

Somewhat surprised, the brunet took the parcel and stared down at it for a moment, before shrugging. He most certainly didn't want to open it in front of everyone…did he?

"Er, thank you, Minerva," said Remus, smiling up at the elder witch, who just shrugged. "Oh, why don't you have a seat? We were just…entertaining the children-"

"-Hey! Who're you calling _children_?!"

"Yeah! We'll have you know that we are _of age_ now!"

"Boys!" exclaimed Molly Weasley, "Is that how you speak to your elders?"

Ginny snickered at the expressions on her brothers' faces, even as Remus shook his head at Molly, indicating that they did nothing wrong.

As she watched the people gathered in the living room, McGonagall was…surprised to feel the pang in her heart when she realized that she was…not exactly _welcome_ in the group.

These students – present and former – wouldn't want _her_ company; she was a 'party-pooper' was she not?

_I do not belong here; I should have known._

She sighed.

"Well, I should be heading back to the castle," she said, clearing her throat to catch everyone's attention again. "I hope…you have a good night. I will probably be seeing you at the next meeting." With a nod of the head, she turned on her heel. "Oh, Molly, there's no need to-"

"-Fred, George," started Sirius, "have you ever gone for the annual Halloween feast dressed up as Professor McGonagall?"

Remus, glancing at the woman, saw her back tense, and shot his friend a questioning glance – but of course, Sirius chose to ignore him.

"W-what?!" exclaimed Bill, his eyes wide, even as Arthur and Molly both stared at Sirius. Fred and George were staring at the man with their jaws dropped open.

"Okay, I'll take that as a no," he said, grinning. "Boys, your stifled imagination _pains_ me. Honestly, why did you never think of _that_ before?"

"You mean – you mean _you_ did? Dress up as Mc – Professor McGonagall and all?" spluttered Fred.

"Yep; the emerald green robes, the pointy witch's hat, the boots, the glasses, the scowl – _everything_."

"Oh that's bloody bril---" Ron, seeing that McGonagall was still with them, although with her back turned to them, stopped abruptly.

It probably wasn't a good idea to aggravate his Head of House – especially when he had three more years of schooling left.

"Remus went as Flitwick, if I remember correctly…" Remus nodded, his lips turning upward in a – reluctant – smile.

"We also had a Slughorn and a Dumbledore too, I believe…" He tactfully, left out naming the other…two, not wanting to dampen the good mood his friend was in. It was rare enough as it was and he wanted that good mood to _last_, dammit!

"James went as Dumbledore," said Sirius, pointedly, raising his eyebrows at Remus as he mentioned the name.

"Slughorn…?" questioned Ginny.

"Our Potions' Professor at the time," clarified Remus. The dark-haired witch had started to move forward, heading away from them.

Sirius noticed this.

"A helpful hint, boys, when it comes to choosing 'thank you' presents for your Head of House before leaving Hogwarts," he said, fighting down the urge to laugh when McGonagall tensed again, before turning around slightly. "Give her a framed portrait. Of _yourself_."

"_Don't_ give them-"

"-Well, don't _hand it over_ to her. When I say 'give' I mean sneak into her office and stick it up there, right next to her desk."

McGonagall had whirled around, and was staring at her former student.

"Do you even know how _long_ it took me to get that blasted thing_ off_ the wall?! It took a final combined effort from both Albus _and_ Filius – three months _after_ you graduated!" she exclaimed.

Sirius smirked.

"Then my Sticking Charms were better than I had originally thought," he said, calmly. "Even the semi-permanent ones."

McGonagall glared at him.

"Did you even realize the amount of trouble that – that _thing_ was?"

"Thing? Professor, you wound me; it was a portrait of _me_ – not a _thing_." Sirius grinned suddenly. "I _did_ hear about the sudden increase in _female_ portraits in your office, though…"

"Yes," snapped McGonagall, crossing her arms over her chest. "Your apparently _dashing_ portrait-self found that he was bored one day, while I was out teaching, and decided to use his charm on the portraits already in my room."

Apart from Remus, the rest of the room's occupants were gaping at the elder witch. "And _naturally_ the female portraits just _had_ to spread the word of this _lovely_ portrait." She shook her head. "And when I returned to my office later in the evening, I was confronted with over twenty females, each vying to get your portrait-self's attention…"

"Oh, there was no need for you to get so _jealous_, you know," said Sirius, "I _did_ tell them that I was already accounted for. I mean, I already had _you_ didn't I? Like I told them, why would I want anyone else when I had you?"

McGonagall just stared as he _winked_ at her.

"So _that_ was why the Fat Lady refused to allow me to enter Gryffindor tower when I wanted to force you to take the…portrait down…?"

Sirius shrugged.

"I _did_ have many admirers…"

"Hang on," said Ginny, frowning, "I thought portraits were made only for…well, _dead_ people?"

Sirius nodded.

"Well, yeah, mostly," he said. "But if you get _yours_ done, and…if you know the appropriate charm to…give the portrait _life_, as it were…" he grinned. "You're all set!" He turned to McGonagall. "I hope you didn't just throw the portrait away, Professor. It _did_ cost me 10 Galleons to get the guy from the studio to paint me…"

McGonagall raised a thin eyebrow.

"Oh, no, Sirius, I didn't just throw it away," she said.

"Good, that's-"

"-I had it burnt."

"You _what_?! You – you evil-"

A loud laugh from Tonks made everyone turn to the pink-haired woman. She was staring at Remus while she laughed. "What in the – Remus…?"

The brunet tore his eyes away from the unwrapped package that he had opened, while everyone else had been enthralled with the interaction between the Deputy Headmistress and her former student.

"It's…from Dumbledore…" he said, as he held up the note that he – and Tonks – had been reading.

"What does it say?" questioned Sirius.

Remus toned down his smile.

"Oh, I don't think – no, I don't think that I should-" Sirius leaned over from his armchair and plucked the note from his friend's hand. "Hey!"

"Let's see…_'Dear Rem__us, I hope you are well. If you are reading this, I do hope that this package has been delivered to you by a rather high-strung colleague of mine__ who does need to get away from her work from time to time, if only to amuse herself. __In light of this, __kindly inform her that she is not to return to Hogwarts until lunchtime tomorrow. I will know if she tries to sneak in, regardless. __Please give her my kindest, warm__est and most sincere regards. And _do _encourage her to hold off all plans of hexing me to Scandinavia and back until we have resolved this minor problem concerning the Dark Lord.__ Albus Dumbledore.'…"_

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Oh, hang on, there's more…'_PS. I _do_ hope you all enjoy the brownies; I picked them up from a delightful little café in Muggle London.'_…"

Remus gestured at the opened package that sat in his lap, and sure enough, there were about a dozen – or more – squares of chocolate brownies amidst the paper.

McGonagall stood in place as she watched the younger children scramble to their feet as they rushed towards Remus and the brownies.

_How did he_-? _He couldn't have know that Severus…_she paused, _unless he gave the task to Severus _knowing_ that he would do his best to pass it on to someone else…?_

Her eyes narrowed.

_Albus Dumbledore__, you manipulative little – oh, I __am_ _going to – _

"Have a brownie, Professor. You look like you could use it."

She glared at the dark-haired man, before stomping over to an unoccupied armchair and slumping into it.

* * *

**A/N**

Hope that was alright! Now I've _really_ got to stop updating this story until I get my assignments done! So, if everything goes well, this will be it until next weekend!

I had to include a bit of Dumbledore somewhere; I sort of missed him.

Anyway, that's it for now.

Till next time,

Siriusgirl1


	15. Questions and Decisions

**A/N**

Okay, I believe that an apology is in order for the delay in updating this fanfic. I honestly have no valid excuse for this delay. I was just enjoying my mid-semester break…and just when I was getting used to the awesomeness of having nothing to do, it just had to end. Sigh. Oh well.

But a very big 'THANK YOU' to everyone who reviewed!

Here's chapter fifteen, and I really hope that you enjoy it!

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**: **Questions and Decisions**

The elderly, bespectacled wizard waited until everyone had left the room before he turned to the seven members of the Order that he had asked to stay behind. The fourth meeting of the Order of the Phoenix had just come to an end, and everyone was tired.

They were _very_ tired, in fact, as there had been a mad rush with recruiting people and learning new information whilst going to great pains to keep things secret from the – surprise, surprise – paranoid Ministry at the same time.

And that was not taking into account the great pains they had taken to keep word of their activities from reaching the spies of the Dark Lord.

"Albus, what was it that you wanted to discuss with us?"

He could not help but smile.

"_Must_ we always get straight to the point, my dear?" The dark-haired Witch pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

"I am sure that we all have other pressing matters to attend to, as well as these meetings," she said, and glanced down the long table when she heard a distinct snort.

The dark-haired man's eyes were focused on the table.

"Not all of us, Professor," he said. "_Some_ of us just have to remain in this bloody house. Hiding."

The elderly wizard sighed.

"Sirius," he started, calmly. "You know that I would not suggest such a thing if it weren't absolutely necessary." The 'murderer' shrugged.

"Don't ask _me_ about knowing people, Dumbledore," he said, casually. "The person I thought I knew ended up-"

"-Oh _do_ stop the whole pitiful reel about being betrayed by those who you had trusted with your life," cut in the greasy-haired Potions' Master, from his place seated opposite the escaped convict. "It tends to get old after a while."

"No one asked for your opinion, Snivellus," said Sirius, narrowing his grey eyes at the man.

"No, but I tend to like voicing what I think of people who act with such immaturity that it makes me sick."

"_Do_ shut up, Snivellus. I doubt if anyone here wants to listen-"

"-And about betrayal and the like…you're going to have to deal with it, Black. It was not as though the evidence left behind allowed anyone to even consider the fact that you were innocent. It all pointed to-"

"-I was not talking about that when I said that about traitors," hissed Sirius. "I was talking about how I _thought_ I knew Peter, only to have him end up a traitor to us all."

Snape paused only for half a moment, before shrugging easily.

"Either way Black, it's high time you dealt with it and stopped whining like a little brat." He sneered across the table. "But then again, you've always been used to getting what you wanted…so it must be hard for you, mustn't it?"

Sirius returned the sneer.

"Well, at least I _was_ used to getting what I wanted. Unlike _you_, of course…"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"_Snivellus_, in your own words, you're supposed to be the oh-so-intelligent one. Are you telling me that you can't figure out what-"

"-That is _quite_ enough," interrupted McGonagall, when she realized that no one seated at the table was about to interrupt the two. Not even Dumbledore, who looked to be deep in thought. But the two former students kept on glaring at each other.

Lupin, who was seated on Sirius' right, was looking on weakly, and not making any attempt to stop them – a fact which confused Hogwarts' Deputy Headmistress.

Until she remembered what day it was, for the night before had been a full moon night.

_Well,_ she thought, resignedly, as her dark eyes lingered on the exhausted brunet with a mixture of sorrow and pity, _that certainly explains why he hasn't stopped them…_

She was snapped out of her thoughts by the Potions' Master.

"Yes, Black, that _is_ quite enough. Spare us from having to listen to you whining for any longer."

"If I were to do that, would _you_ spare us from having to see your oh-so-lovely face for…say, the next decade or so?"

"Sirius, Severus. That is enough!" Severus snapped his mouth shut and chose, instead, to glare at Sirius – who, of course, returned the favor. McGonagall, apparently, decided to join in on the fun, as she glared at the pair of them. "Honestly, you would think that the two of you are thirteen again, with your petty grudges and arguments."

"Might I say, Minerva, that he-" A pointed glare from his colleague and one-time former Professor made the Potions' Master decide that he might as well keep quiet. But he did mumble something about wretched old women, causing pink-haired Tonks to snort.

"Now," said McGonagall, as she turned to the elderly wizard. "Will you _kindly_ tell us what it was that you wanted to speak to us about?"

"Of course, my dear," said Dumbledore. "It's about Harry-"

"-What about him? Has something happened? Is he-"

"-Sirius, if you will not be quiet I will cast a Silencing Charm on you," snapped McGonagall, sternly. The dark-haired man stared evenly at her.

"I would like to see you try, Professor," he said. "I happened to be quite good at Charms…remember?"

McGonagall growled. Of _course_ she remembered – most of his practice had been at _her_ expense after all, with practical joke after practical joke being played on her.

_Not to mention, _she recalled, with a shudder, _that horrendous portrait he gave me as a 'gift'…oh Merlin, I was paranoid around dark-haired portraits after that one._

_But…_she thought, wryly, _I digress. What was I going to say now…? Ah, yes…_

"Then I will transfigure you into a rabbit."

People raised eyebrows and stared at her.

Okay, maybe that wasn't really what she had wanted to say. The part with the rabbit, that is. The transfiguring part she _had_ meant to say.

"I quite like those little fluffy creatures…" Clearly, the thought of being turned into something adorable did _not_ frighten the dark-haired man.

_Well then,_ thought McGonagall, _I'll just have to think of something else._

"Do you?" She smirked. "Then would you prefer that I transfigure you into a snake? Or perhaps a _rat_?"

_Tha__t _shut him up.

_Hah! _

_Hmm…maybe Severus was right. It _is_ rather easy to discern the weaknesses of Gryffindors, whereas with Slytherins, you could never really tell. _

McGonagall furrowed her brows. _Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Especially in the circumstances, with the Dark Lord rising and such…?_

"_Can_ you transfigure an Animagus, Professor?"

Well, at least it had shut him up for a little while.

…For almost a full minute, that is.

McGonagall frowned as the fingers of her wand arm twitched.

"Would you like to find out?" she asked, irritated both with her thoughts and with the fact that her body actually _felt_ as though it was seventy years old, what with all the late nights each Order member had put in, for 'the cause'.

"I am going to throw the _three _of you out of this room if you don't shut your traps and let us listen to what needs to be discussed about Potter," said Mad-Eye Moody, harshly, as he banged his fist against the table, causing the sound of it meeting the wooden surface to echo around the room.

"I would much rather be 'out of this room' than sit here and discuss a teenager who I would much rather prefer to not talk about," said Severus, seeing that McGonagall and Sirius were too caught up with glaring at the Auror.

"Then by all means," said Sirius, icily, "Leave. No one's asked you to stay."

Once more, the greasy-haired man sneered across the table.

"Has old age dampened your mental prowess, Black? The Headmaster requested my presence here, for this discussion. Which is why I am seated here and not as far away from you as I would prefer to be."

"I asked you all to remain behind because I wanted to hear your opinions on one particularly pressing matter," said Dumbledore, softly.

The whispered conversations and heated arguments came to an end when the soft voice was heard. McGonagall couldn't help but stare at her superior somewhat grudgingly.

She had never been able to silence a class so effectively; and when she _did_ manage to do so, it was only because of a slight raise in her voice, and a frighteningly stern expression on her face that had scared the heck out of _her_ once when she had practiced it in front of her bathroom mirror.

She winced unconsciously at the memory.

_Now that,_ she mused, _was a rather unpleasant experience…_

Shaking her head clear of thought, she turned her full attention back to the white-haired and bearded wizard, just as Kingsley spoke up.

"And what would that matter be? Apart from being related to Harry Potter…" Dumbledore smiled.

"I am sure that I need not remind you of this, but Lord Voldemort is at a stage where he would do just about anything to…dispose of Harry-"

"-_Merlin_, Dumbledore, did you just keep us back to tell us that?" Mad-Eye Moody scowled at his longtime friend, before making to stand up. "Feel free to continue this without me; I have no need to hear the clearly _obvious_ being stated-"

"-What do you think, Alastor, of Harry continuing to be in the care of his Aunt and Uncle until the start of his Fifth year?"

Mad-Eye paused in mid-rant and blinked owlishly at his friend. Dumbledore turned his eyes to the wizards and witches gathered around the table. "What do all of you think?"

"Why are you asking us this, Albus?" queried McGonagall, when no one made a move to answer.

"Because, my dear, I would like to know your opinions. Just in case I have, by chance, made the wrong decision."

"-If Voldemort's…oh for the love of – that's his name and I don't see why we _shouldn't_ use it," snapped Sirius, as a few people winced, "If _Voldemort_ is after Harry, like you sai-"

"-_If_, Black? So the three attempts at his life – not counting his earliest one on him – were just results of boredom on the Dark Lord's part, is that it?"

Sirius scowled.

"I was merely repeating what Dumbledore said and-"

"-Of course, because you don't seem to have a mind of your own to-"

"-_Look_, I am sick and tired of you and your supposedly-witty comments! If you have a problem with me-"

"-Which I clearly do-"

"-Spit it out now, and stop acting like some kind of pompous-"

"-I have a problem with you," said Severus, calmly. "In fact, I've had a problem with you since I first saw you on the Hogwarts Express before our First Year at Hogwarts."

"Well I _assure you_ that the feeling's entirely mutual."

There was a fairly long pause in the kitchen at that, which was broken by a surprised Tonks.

"Whoa," she said, sounding very much surprised. "You've hated each other since then?" She shook her head. "You two have more of a grudge against each other than even Voldemort and Harry."

She flushed slightly at the…strange looks she received. "But of course that's not true," she added, quickly, but remained quiet after that. 

Dumbledore smiled at the girl before sighing.

"The blood protection that Harry receives whilst he stays with the Dursleys does make it exceptionally difficult for Voldemort to reach him there," he said, continuing to speak in that soft voice of his. "Which, naturally, is why I send him back to that place year after year…"

"And yet, I cannot help but wonder…can both that blood protection _and_ the wards that I have set about the place – for safety purposes, of course – continue to keep the forces of Lord Voldemort away from Harry?"

"Why do you say that?" queried Kingsley, as everyone stared at Dumbledore.

McGonagall tilted her head to a side as she stared thoughtfully at her colleague. What was he trying to say?

Her eyes widened ever so slightly behind her slender glasses.

"Wasn't Potter's blood used as one of the ingredients in his…resurrection, as it were?" she questioned, quietly. A small smile appeared on the Headmaster's face as he nodded.

"Indeed it was," he said.

McGonagall frowned, the wheels in her head turning quickly.

"It was his blood that carried the protection he received from Li-" She glanced quickly in the direction of the dark-haired man, "-from his mother's sacrifice." Dumbledore nodded again.

"So," started Tonks, her – pink – eyebrows shooting up. "What does _that_ mean? Surely it can't mean that Voldemort can breach the protection around the Dursleys' place?"

Dumbledore shook his head.

"No, that protection will remain strong until…" his voice trailed off as his blue eyes locked onto Severus' dark ones. "Until such a time when it becomes…weak…"

_He's lying_, said a voice in McGonagall's mind immediately. _There's more to it than that._ The advantage of working for so long with the famed wizard was that at times, she could tell when he was lying. Mind you, it was only at times; she wouldn't be able to spot a lie every time he used one.

"Then-?"

"-Since Potter's blood was used, does he carry some of the same protection now?" Gasps were heard all around the room - but not from Severus - as Dumbledore turned to his colleague, his eyes twinkling.

"As sharp as ever, Minerva," he said, jovially. "That is one aspect that has not changed since the time I taught you…"

McGonagall scowled. She _really_ didn't like the idea of her days in school being brought up; especially not in front of…other people.

"One aspect?" Severus couldn't quite help himself from asking, thereby drawing Dumbledore's attention to him.

"Oh yes, well…actually, no. There are other aspects of her that haven't changed," said the Headmaster, nodding as he thought back to…the old days. "Our dear Minerva always was a bit of a…hmm, what would you call it…? Ah! A worrywart…she was always a bit of a worrywart."

It seemed that only Tonks and Severus were interested in the conversation; Tonks because she was genuinely curious and Severus because…he didn't like the topic of Harry Potter anyway. (And besides, if he managed to hear anything interesting, he could use it to bribe his colleague. Bribe her into...giving the Slytherin Quidditch team her House's practise hours...lest her students find out said 'interesting thing'...)

"A worrywart?"

"Yes, a rather classic one too," said Dumbledore, eagerly. "Always flitting around, concerned about failing house and classmates – not the Slytherins though, mind you – and always worrying over minor things like her schoolwork…" He chuckled. "And there was this one time when she demanded that it not be made mandatory to have a partner for any of the festive Balls, because the opposite sex were just waiting to-"

"-As fascinating as this conversation is," cut in Sirius, "What are we going to do about Harry?" All other conversation stopped. "If the…if Lily's blood protection is with Voldemort too, shouldn't we get Harry out of Privet Drive?"

"Out of Privet Drive and to…?"

Sirius gestured around him with his arms.

"Here, of course."

"The kitchen?"

He scowled at the Potions' Master.

"No, here as in Grimmauld Place." He glanced back at Dumbledore. "With my parents' original protection and now your extra wards _and_ with you as Secret Keeper, wouldn't this be the safest place for Harry?"

Dumbledore was quiet for a moment.

"Yes," he decided, "yes, it would…"

"Then…" there was a somewhat excited gleam in the dark-haired man's eyes. "He can come here?"

The elderly wizard smiled.

"No."

* * *

**A/N**

Part two of this will be up soon!! Hope you enjoyed reading this, despite its length!

See ya soon,

Siriusgirl1


	16. Explanation and Mentally Scarring Images

**A/N**

It's been eight months. Wow. Somehow, that's rather...depressing. Ahem, anyway, moving on...let me first apologize for the (repeatedly) too-long delay in updating this. There are three reasons that I can give for this, by way of explanation, if anyone's interested, and they are; I realized that what I was doing in university wasn't really what I wanted to do (or that I particularly enjoyed) and therefore had to deal with changing courses and getting permission to do said changes; then at the end of the year I moved states, and had to find a place to stay along with getting used to the new university and the new place; finally, and perhaps most importantly, for some reason or the other, I sort of...lost the drive that I previously had when it came to writing, specifically writing for _'Harry Potter'_ –again, I have no idea why it happened, but...it did.

BUT, I'm slightly pleased to say that I have gotten that drive back, and that I want to –and will definitely- complete this story. All I can ask is that those of you who reviewed have not lost your interest in this (if you have, well, you can't be blamed, can you?).

Right. Well, that's that. Oh, and not to forget a big 'THANK YOU' to everyone who reviewed and asked for updates (however late said updates are).

Here's Chapter Sixteen –or rather, part two of chapter fifteen. Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

_Recap__:_

_Sirius gestured around with his arms._

"_Here, of course."_

"_The kitchen?"_

_He scowled at the Potions' Master_

"_No, here as in Grimmauld Place." He glanced back at Dumbledore. "With my parents' original protection and now _your_ extra wards _and_ with you as Secret Keeper, wouldn't this be the safest place for Harry?"_

_Dumbledore was quiet for a moment._

"_Yes," he decided, "yes, it would..."_

"_Then..." there was a somewhat excited gleam in the dark-haired man's eyes. "He can come here?"_

_The elderly wizard smiled._

"_No."_

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen****: Explanations and Mentally Scarring Images**

There was a moment of silence in the room as its occupants stared at the elderly wizard.

"No?" echoed the dark haired man, losing the gleam that had sparked to life in his eyes. "What do you mean 'no'?"

There was a sigh from the (only) greasy haired man seated at the table.

"He means 'no, he cannot come here', Black. Surely you are not _so_ mentally challenged that you do not realize that?"

The man he was bating didn't as much as glance in his direction, his attention too focused on the white haired wizard seated at the other end of the table.

"Dumbledore?" he pressed, "What do you mean 'no'?"

"I mean, Sirius, that while this might indeed be one of the safest places for Harry to be in, it is not exactly the...wisest," replied the elderly wizard, his blue eyes looking somewhat saddened behind the pair of half-moon spectacles that adorned his face.

"Yes, we already have _one_ spoiled brat to keep an eye on. We certainly don't need two." This was said, of course, with a pointed look opposite him, where the wrongly accused Azkaban escapee sat.

Said wrongly accused Azkaban escapee was mentally chanting that he _would not allow the slimy git to get to him._

"Oh?" Sirius feigned confusion. "Why, Severus, I didn't know that you shared our opinion and considered yourself to be a spoiled brat. Interesting."

"What's interesting is-"

"Albus, what exactly do you mean by it not being the _wisest_ place for Harry to be at?" questioned McGonagall, swiftly and smoothly interrupting her fellow professor –thereby preventing another round of the Black versus Snape 'let's throw insults at one another until we can't think of anything more to say or until someone kills us' game.

"Unfortunately, my dear, it is not my place to answer that," said Albus, a smile on his face. "Not yet, at least."

_Merlin, I should be used to this_, thought the Transfiguration Professor, angrily, _but it never. Fails. To. Annoy. Me. _

So she fixed her superior with a...superior glare, hoping he got the message –even though that didn't mean that he would change his mind and answer the question.

Albus merely chuckled.

"If it's not your place to answer the question, then whose place is it?"

Albus cocked his head to a side, looking thoughtful for a brief moment, before the smile was back on his face.

"Ah, when you put it that way," he pushed his glasses back up along his nose, "it _is_ my place to tell you..."

McGonagall raised her eyebrows, but kept her mouth shut to prevent any increased aggravation. Patience, she had come to learn, was _really_ a virtue that one needed to possess when working alongside this great wizard –it was just as important as breathing and eating.

"So you _will_ tell us?" queried Tonks.

"I am afraid not."

"It doesn't matter if it's not your place to answer the question or not," said Sirius, his voice low. "It's _my right_ to know anything concerning Harry, especially when it's about his safety."

"I can understand that, Sirius, but I have my reasons for this."

"When do you _never_ have your reasons?" snapped Sirius, getting worked up once more.

"Ah, but Sirius my boy, no one hardly ever does anything without-"

"-This isn't the time to be philosophical or anything like that, Dumbledore! This is Harry's safety we're talking about."

"I am aware of that, Sirius," said the Headmaster, quietly this time.

"Then why do you insist on keeping things from us? Things related to him?"

"Sirius, you must know that I would never do anything to put Harry in more danger than he already is in..."

"I know that! But...but..." his voice trailed off, and, when she turned to look at him, McGonagall noted how he ran a hand through his long black hair –an act of frustration if there ever was one. "It would just...make me feel better if I knew exactly what he's facing...you know?"

Dumbledore's blue eyes softened at the obvious vast concern that the man had for his godson.

"If you knew exactly what he's facing?" echoed Snape, lazily. "Good grief, Black, surely you are not that...lacking in the head? Is it not obvious that the 'what' he's facing is the Dark Lord?"

"_No one_ asked for your opinion," growled out Sirius.

"Again, your levels of concentration appal me. The Headmaster said a while ago that he would like to hear our opinion." Snape paused. "How you managed to leave Hogwarts with a successfully completed education I will never be able to understand..." He shook his head for emphasis.

"Good, because it might tax whatever it is that you have for a brain inside there," retorted Sirius, his hands clenching into fists.

The slumped figure seated next to him stirred at this latest heated exchange, and pulled himself to a properly seated position with a sigh.

"Let it go, Sirius," he said, somewhat sluggishly. "Let Dumbledore finish what he wanted to say."

"But he-"

"_Sirius_."

With an annoyed huff, the dark haired man crossed his arms across his chest and turned back to the Headmaster, who was gazing at the brunet in concern.

"Is there anything we can get you, Remus? For the pain?"

Remus shook his head, although he attempted a smile –which came across as a grimace.

"It'll be fine. It's just fatigue mixed in with the usual after-effects of the transformation," he said. "I've taken all the necessary pain-relieving potions, Dumbledore," he added, seeing that the Headmaster was still not entirely convinced.

Dumbledore sent him another searching glance, before he turned away from him.

"Now, where was I...?"

"The part where you'd never lead Harry into greater danger than he is in already."

"That was a rhetorical question, Black. Ever heard of them?"

Kingsley saw the looks on both men's faces, and spoke up somewhat hurriedly. They were all exhausted as it was and they certainly did _not_ need to be put through yet another extra long meeting owing to the fact that two of the Order members couldn't let go of silly schoolboy grudges.

"Dumbledore, please, at this point in time we're all rather tired and liable to bursts of temper," he said, "could you please be...direct, for a change?"

"Of course, Kingsley," said the blue eyed wizard, with a merry little nod that made some of those seated at the table wonder how the elderly wizard could continue to be so cheerful when _they_ were exhausted. "To address your concerns Sirius," he nodded at the dark haired man, "I would never put Harry in a position where he faces more danger than what he faces already. _But_...it is necessary that he remain with Mr and Mrs Dursley, not just for now but for a few years –no, Sirius, do not ask me why. I can only tell you that it is because of the blood protection that Lily passed on to him."

The Hogwarts' Headmaster turned his attention to the others. "As for Harry staying here at Grimmauld Place –of course we will bring him here, but it is far too early to do so _now_. Harry is still safe where he is, and so I do not think it will harm him if he were to remain with his aunt and uncle for a while longer."

"But what of the use of his blood in the Dark Lord's resurrection?" questioned McGonagall, her brows furrowed. "Doesn't that mean that he will be able to reach Harry there?"

"Logically speaking, that is correct. But it will not happen, for while Lord Voldemort-" Dumbledore pleasantly ignored his colleague's disapproving glance, "-took Harry's blood, and therefore is able to touch Harry without being repulsed by Lily's protection, there are limits as to what he can and can't do." Every single pair of –weary- eyes was on him.

"The ancient magic that Lily unknowingly invoked by...sacrificing herself to save her son, even after she was told that...her life would be spared," McGonagall wondered about the discreet look that he sent in Snape's direction, "was _not_ invoked to protect Voldemort. He may have some of that protection and...a certain link to Harry, but the protection is at its strongest when Harry is with his aunt –who shares Lily's blood- and Voldemort will not be able to get past that, whether or not he had used some of Harry's blood –although, perhaps, the power will be slightly, and only slightly, weaker since he did use Harry's blood..."

He blinked at the onslaught of questions that followed his explanation.

"A certain link to Harry? What sort of link are you talking about?"

"If Voldemort himself can't go to where Harry is staying, won't he be able to send some of his Death Eaters to capture Harry for him?"

"No offence met, Dumbledore, but are you certain that Voldemort will be unable to get to Harry while he is with his aunt?"

"Why would-" Tonks stopped abruptly when her former Headmaster raised a hand calmly, effectively bringing all questions to a halt. Dumbledore remained silent even after he had silenced those in the room.

He lowered his hand slowly.

"For a group of individuals who claim to be exhausted...that was some rather energetic shouting," he commented, lightly. "Tell me, Alastor," he said, looking to his old friend, "if you were Lord Voldemort-" he smiled at the dark look that the Auror sent him, "-my mistake, if you were a Dark Lord as notorious as Lord Voldemort and suffered everything that Voldemort suffered...if you only just regained a properly functioning human form, what would your first action be?

Would you rush after the one person who seems to constantly defeat you –or send your Death Eaters to capture him so you can destroy him- or would you work on establishing your own forces? Since you have been absent for a very long time, it is only natural that things would have changed within your Death Eaters' ranks..."

"I would work on my Death Eaters, and then on securing myself an army of sorts –taking advantage of the fact that the Minister for Magic doesn't seem to believe that I have returned to do certain things," said Moody, gruffly.

"That is what I had thought too," said Dumbledore, pleasantly.

McGonagall nodded.

"Then he will leave dealing with Harry for later?"

"Oh, we can all be assured that he will still be thinking of ways and means to defeat Harry," said Dumbledore, quickly, "but he will not act on it just yet. The Ministry does not believe that he is back or that he killed Cedric Diggory-"

"-Or that Harry's telling the truth, or that you're sane and speaking the truth too," added Sirius, with a snort.

"No, the Ministry does not believe any of that; therefore, if he were to suddenly somehow manage to kill Harry –which he won't, Sirius, please sit back down- then it would only make people more suspicious. Who, apart from him, would want Harry Potter dead?"

"I can think of someone," muttered Sirius, with a dark look across the table.

Snape sneered at him.

"If I did want that, there wouldn't _be_ a Harry Potter to talk about at this meeting," he replied.

"Why you-"

"You brought that down on yourself Sirius."

"You certainly did," agreed McGonagall, "although...Severus, would you _please_ stop baiting him?"

Her colleague merely sneered at her too, before focusing his attention on the far wall.

"And so," continued Dumbledore, as though that exchange had not happened, "the public would get suspicious...and the Ministry would be forced to act to keep the public's support, and lo and behold, the fact that Voldemort has risen once more will be known." He shook his head. "No, this dark wizard is far too clever than to risk that happening. He will make the best of the Ministry's forced ignorance and its incompetence, until it will be too late for them to act when he does show himself."

"So what you're saying is that Harry does not need to come here for a while yet, for he is safe with his aunt and uncle?" questioned Tonks. Dumbledore nodded. "Oh, okay. Then...why are we here in the first place?"

Dumbledore beamed at her.

"Because I knew that there are some among us who wish to know if it is possible to allow Harry to spend his holidays here," he replied. Despite his aching bones and fatigue, Remus couldn't help the faint grin that formed on his lips as he watched his best friend fidget uncomfortably in his seat.

"Isn't _that_ touching?" drawled Snape.

"And," added Dumbledore, before Sirius could retort, "I also wanted to discuss with you a form of...surveillance duty..."

"What?" asked the gruff, booming voice of Mad-Eye Moody.

"I wish for some of the Order members to keep an eye on Harry," explained Dumbledore. "For while he is safe where he is...well, Voldemort is not the only one who can become a dangerous foe at times like these..."

_What_, wondered McGonagall,_ is he talking –oh. Could he possibly mean..._her eyes widened slightly, _would the Ministry really go that far to prevent others from knowing that Harry Potter was indeed speaking the truth...?_

"You mean the Ministry," she stated.

Dumbledore looked startled.

"Do I?" he queried, his blue eyes twinkling merrily. McGonagall quirked an eyebrow.

"...Either the Ministry itself, or...those in the Ministry who are working for Voldemort."

"Minerva my dear, that is an interesting theory; one that never once crossed my mind, mind you..." He winked amusedly at the intelligent Deputy Headmistress as she sent him a dark, foreboding look.

"Would the Ministry really do that?" questioned Tonks, looking to Mad-Eye and Kingsley, her fellow Aurors. Mad-Eye grunted.

"Since you're still relatively new to this, I'll let it go," he said. "But the more time you spend in the Ministry, Tonks, the more you'll realize that the people in it are not all honest and respectable."

"And with the Ministry divided between those who have faith in Dumbledore –because, well, not all of us know the real Harry Potter- this is a situation that greatly benefits Voldemort," mused Kingsley. "Especially if he plans on taking over the M-"

"-Getting back to what I was saying," cut in Dumbledore smoothly, almost hurriedly, "I have assigned two people to keep an eye on Harry; Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher, who-"

"-_What_?!"

McGonagall had to say that she couldn't find fault with her former student for his exclamation.

"What 'what'?" inquired Dumbledore, curiously.

"Arabella –no offence meant to her, of course- is a Squib," said Sirius, "and...and to leave Harry's protection in _Dung's_ hands...why, we might as well hand him over to whoever is after him."

"But I thought Mundungus was a friend of yours...?"

"He is," said Sirius, "but...he's not very...good with keeping his mind on the task at hand." He sighed. "The moment he gets a whiff of a good black-market sale of some kind of valuable goods, he'll forget all about Harry. You _know_ what he's like, Dumbledore."

"Ah, yes, but I do not imagine that Mundungus will let us down here," said Dumbledore. "In any case, I want to appoint at least two others –to take it in turns, of course. I only want two people watching Harry over any given period of time." He shook his head. "No, I only actually want _one_ person to keep an eye on him, while the other only gets called in if Harry ever leaves his aunt's house."

"So we'll be spying on Potter?" questioned Moody.

Remus noticed that Sirius didn't look too pleased with the thought, and sent him a warning look –which, for some reason or the other, he heeded.

"Not spying, Alastor, watching. Or protecting, if you will."

"That sounds like a good idea. So...who's watching him now?" asked Tonks.

"Arabella is," said Dumbledore. "And Mundungus is on standby." He smiled. "Now, about these rosters-" He looked up when Snape stood up, pushing his chair back forcefully, but asked nothing when he saw the man head towards the door.

"Severus?" questioned McGonagall, surprised.

"I don't see any further need for my presence at this meeting," explained the Potions' Master, his robes billowing around him. "I will be at Hogwarts if you need anything." With a nod at them all –though probably not at Sirius- he stalked out of the kitchen, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Everyone except Dumbledore stared after him, surprised.

"Well," said Kingsley, "that was...strange."

"Was it something we said?" questioned Tonks, earning herself a disbelieving look from Sirius.

"No, he was right to leave when he did," said Dumbledore, the saddened note in his voice catching everyone's attention. "He did not want to hear too much information," he said, by way of explanation.

"Too much information?" echoed McGonagall.

"Is it because..." Remus paused, looking unsure. "Because of his work as our...informant?" Dumbledore's small smile told him he was right.

"Yes, Remus. For although Severus has handled Lord Voldemort and his mental probing admirably all this time, he can never take his good fortune –in that aspect- for granted. There is always a great chance that Voldemort will not believe his reasons for...remaining a Hogwarts Professor, for associating with me...and if he sees that Severus knows more than he is letting on..."

"It will put him in danger," finished Tonks. Dumbledore was not the only one pleasantly surprised when Sirius shook his head and correct her.

"Not just that," he said, slowly, grudgingly, "it will put the Order in danger and Voldemort will know of our actions and who exactly is in the Order." He paused. "That..._that_ is what Sniv –er, Snape, is trying to avoid."

His former Headmaster and Head of House were both looking at him –one looking pleased while the other looked somewhat...suspicious- and he shrugged. "I may be a bit of an ass, but I'm not stupid so as to be unable to acknowledge the truth," he said, harshly. "Something which I learned that not all witches and wizards are able to do..."

McGonagall continued to watch him out of the corner of her eye as Dumbledore continued with what he was saying, organizing times and rosters, and strategies of escape if the need arose. Her eyes were narrowed in thought behind her square rimmed glasses.

_Well,_ she thought, bemusedly, _if he can understand _that_ much about Severus...maybe, maybe there _is_ some hope that the two will reconcile and put their childish school day grudges behind them...?_

"Yeah, it's just...Snape really does want to help us, doesn't he?" Tonks voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she found that the topic of conversation had moved on. "I never really...thought of him as loyal or anything like that; I just sort of accepted that he was here, with us...not knowing what exactly he did for us..."

"That may be true," said Sirius, somewhat childishly, "but he's still a slimy, greasy-haired, snivelling prat."

McGonagall sighed in faint disappointment. _So much for that hope,_ she thought to herself, _the day those two reconcile will probably be the day...the Dark Lord takes to wearing red and gold robes and apologizes to Harry for all he has done to him, requesting to be best friends forever, while admitting he's the founding member of Albus' fan club._

She shuddered at the images that were conjured up in her head; images of Harry Potter and the Lord Voldemort as best friends...and, of course, of said dark wizard founding a fan club in honour of the Hogwarts' Headmaster.

_I am scarred,_ she moaned inwardly, _for life._

* * *

**A/N**

Okay, that was way longer than I had expected it to be. Argh! I just didn't know how and when to end it, that's why. Ah well. It won't happen again, I hope.

Hope you enjoyed it.

'Till next time,

Siriusgirl1


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